


Let's Put on a Show!

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Hidden Feelings [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Even Dudley sees it!, Fluff, Harry and Draco are both so dense that you will feel like bashing them over the head, Humor, Lucius feels like pulling out his hair in frustraion at the two, M/M, Mostly Draco, Mpreg, Probably Crack, Wedding Planning, Who's mildly bridezilla, sort of slow build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 05:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11684889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: A year after leaving Hogwarts, Draco reads about Harry's engagement in the Daily Prophet, only when he goes to congratulate him, learns that it's not true. Able to commiserate, Draco suggests that they fake an engagement, which, after a bit of wondering how that would work, Harry agrees to. They only have one condition, and that's to have as much fun as possible with this show of theirs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of what will be three chapters - which are written and I'll post as I finish polishing them a bit. Just a warning, if you are looking for angst and a lot of emotional fighting, you'll probably be disappointed. There's arguing, sure, but it's mostly playful banter, lol :-)

“Congratulations on your engagement, Potter. I trust you actually know this one?” Draco asked in a mocking yet playful tone to hide how dismayed he was by the news.

“What?” Harry asked in surprise as Draco sat down at Harry's table at the Leaky. He had come to Diagon Alley very early this morning to get his shopping done before it got crowded, and so was eating breakfast here rather than at home.

“As opposed to whatever his name was that you married as a joke during our Eighth Year,” Draco clarified.

“Huh – oh! Ethan. He and I actually dated for a month to see if we could make a marriage work, but he quickly accused me of hiding things from him, and since I was never quite sure I was serious about marrying him, I couldn't tell him any of these secrets.” Harry waved a hand at his toast so that the butter floated over and buttered it without manual input. “But I'm more confused by whatever you are talking about now. Congratulations on _what_ engagement?”

Draco unfolded the Daily Prophet and gave it a smart snap so that it would stay open without a center crease. He then cleared his throat as if about to read an important proclamation.

“Dear Readers, I know you are as excited as we are by this: confidential sources have confirmed that our beloved Harry Potter is officially engaged to be married. Our source didn't quite catch _who_ Harry is marrying, but he is quoted as very excited to have his spring wedding.”

Harry braced his forehead on his fingers – which were in turn supported by his elbow resting on the table. “I'm pretty sure I actually said _fall_ wedding, and Rita must have been sitting on my shoulder again because I didn't see _anyone_ close enough to hear me – otherwise I would have put up a privacy spell.”

“So... Ginny Weasley?” Draco asked, both curious to hear and dreading the answer.

“Er... yes. And no,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I was talking on my muggle mobile with Ginny and we were actually talking about _if_ we got married, when we'd have the wedding, and what sort of things we'd want during the ceremony. How many kids we'd have – she wants one boy and one girl while I want six boys (including a set of twins) and a girl. She didn't appreciate my humor,” Harry ended with a laugh.

“You don't seriously want that many children, do you?” Draco asked in alarm.

“Well yeah. Or well, I suppose that I would be happy with my kids no matter how many of them I had; no matter if they were boys or girls,” Harry admitted. “After growing up an orphan with an Aunt and Uncle that didn't give a damn about me, I'd love a big family.”

“So... did you and your fiancée reach an agreement about the number of children you plan to have? A compromise such as three boys – _no twins_ – and one girl?” Draco asked with a playful smile.

Harry rolled his eyes. “You're missing the point. It was nothing more than talk. Neither of us wants to get married to each other. _She_ wants to focus on her career as a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, and _I_ want to settle down about two years ago and have half a dozen kids already.”

“You'd barely won the Final Battle two years ago!” Draco blurted out in surprise. “You can't have seriously wanted to get married back then.”

“Oh but I did,” Harry stated with utter seriousness. “I would have been quite happy getting married to someone and settling down to work on having babies the very next day if I had any clue _who_ I wanted to marry at that point. I still half thought it would be Ginny back then, and had I asked, she probably would have said yes. Good thing I was confused enough in general to listen to Hermione about going back to school. I didn't really want to go, if I'm honest. I haven't done anything with my NEWTs and I'm not sure I ever will. But that year did help me understand something very important about myself.”

“That you're bent?” Draco asked with a knowing and lightly flirty grin.

“Half bent. I like both,” Harry clarified with a shrug. “But yes.”

Draco sighed and turned the pages of the Daily Prophet until he found the headline he was looking for. It was on the fourth page at the top. He folded the paper and tossed it on the table next to Harry's breakfast.

“You're not the only one engaged. Looks like my father took it upon himself to announce _my_ engagement as well,” Draco informed Harry with a sigh.

“Draco Malfoy, sole Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy, is all set to get married this summer – provided that his chosen witch agrees to sign a generous prenuptial agreement. More details will be forthcoming as soon as they are revealed. If past Malfoy weddings are anything to go by, it is certain to be the event of the decade – possibly century. We here at the Prophet look forward to attending and reporting on the wedding for all our eager readers.” Harry stopped reading and looked up at Draco. There was a flicker of something on his face before he erased it and gave Draco a small smile. “Congratulations. Who's the lucky witch?”

Draco shrugged and shook his head. “I have no idea! My father hasn't bothered to inform me yet.”

Harry chuckled. “How strange is it that the Daily Prophet tries its best to marry me off to sell as many papers as possible, and your father is doing more or less the same thing to you? Only I'm sure he's trying to buy prestige or something rather than sell papers.”

“He wants to ensure that I have the Heir I'm supposed to before he dies. I don't expect it'll be anytime soon, but to hear him tell it, he's already got one foot in the grave,” Draco explained with an amused harrumph.

“Too bad these headlines aren't true,” Harry stated with a soft chuckle. “Then all we'd need to do is wait for the weddings to be over and the paper would lose all interest in us. Well, me. I'm still fairly certain that your father will make sure your name is in the paper as often as possible.”

“You know...” Draco drawled as he stroked his chin in thought. “That's not a half bad idea, Potter.”

“Er... what?” Harry asked in confusion.

“We fake an engagement,” Draco elaborated. “Just until everyone loses interest in whether or not we're actually getting married.”

Harry snorted. “Oh sure! And how exactly will that work, Malfoy? We make an announcement in the paper, be seen in public together from time to time, and then what?”

“Wait for the frenzy to die down,” Draco stated with a careless shrug.

“But what if it doesn't?” Harry wondered, curious despite the certainty that this was a crazy idea.

Draco sighed. “Well, I suppose that if it made things worse – for example, the Prophet eventually starts demanding that we set a date – we could do it. Set a date and let that satisfy their expectations for a while.”

Harry sat back and thought this over for a few moments. He stroked his chin with one hand. “That... could work. We set a date and go through all the preparations for having a wedding. That'll give everyone something to talk about.”

Draco nodded in agreement. “And then we cancel everything at the last minute. I'm fairly certain that no one would be heartless enough to try to pressure us into marrying anyone else for at least a couple of years after that.”

“Your father might,” Harry pointed out. Then he looked at a spot on the wall behind Draco – one across the room so that his eyes looked far away. “Or we could just do it. That way, everyone's happy. Plus, we'd both be free to go off and do whatever we want without anyone pressuring us to do what _they_ want. And we make an agreement that if either of us finds someone we want to marry for real, we very quietly get divorced – no one has to know.”

“That wouldn't work, Potter,” Draco said with a shake of his head. “Regardless of what my father wants, I really do need to have a child soon – on the off chance that someone decides I wasn't punished enough for my crimes and figures that ending me and my bloodline is a good idea.”

Harry shrugged. “So we do that too. It's actually rather Slytherin, now that I think about it. I'll get what I want, you'll get what you want, and we'll have the safety of a marriage to stop people from pressuring each of us to get married.”

Draco harrumphed. “Unless they decide that I'm not good enough for you and pressure you to divorce me and marry someone better.”

Harry shrugged. “So we make them believe that we're in love. Not just in love but arse over tits about each other. Whenever we're in public together, we act like that disgustingly affectionate couple that everyone else not so secretly wants to murder.”

Draco was silent as he thought this over for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Alright. This sounds like a workable plan. The only thing I insist on is that we draw up and sign a prenuptial agreement stating that all of my Malfoy assets and inheritances remain mine in the event of a divorce, and obviously all of your assets will remain yours.”

“We should probably _also_ add a stipulation that we can easily divorce at any time should we find someone we want to be married to more,” Harry added, feeling strangely morose at the suggestion.

Draco held his breath to suppress a pang of dismay as he nodded in agreement. “I think that sounds reasonable. So, how should we handle this? Should we simply send an announcement to the Daily Prophet, or should we just get on with all the planning and see how long it takes the paper to catch on?”

“We're putting on a show, right? So why not put on a show? Rather than announce it, I say we simply go shopping for engagement rings. It probably won't take long for a reporter to snoop on us, and then – _just_ to be _sure_ the act is obvious – we can stroll along Diagon Alley hand in hand.”

“That's bound to create quite a stir,” Draco said with a highly amused smirk. “Sounds fun, actually.”

“I think so too,” Harry replied with a soft smile. He set his mostly empty plate aside and prepared to stand up.

Draco put a hand on Harry's arm to stop him from moving just yet. “Let's also make a pact to have fun with this. If something isn't fun, we stop doing it.”

Harry frowned in confusion. “What do you mean? Are you saying that if we both decide that cake tasting is boring, we break off the engagement?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I'm saying that this is nothing more than a big show, right? So let's make it a fun one. If we both decide that cake tasting is boring, we stop tasting cakes and go do something else – such as shopping for our wedding clothes. If we're just having an all around bad day, we don't do anything at all until it's fun again, yeah?”

“That's brilliant! Also, I think we should plan out a few fun things to do in public,” Harry said with a grin. “Maybe go to a Quidditch match and have a few dinners at the fanciest place in Diagon Alley.”

“Maybe we should make those dinners a weekly event – say every Wednesday night,” Draco suggested.

“Why Wednesday?” Harry wondered with a slightly tilted head.

“To save the weekends for things like Quidditch matches, of course,” Draco stated as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Alright,” Harry agreed with a smile.

They were quiet as they walked to the Enchanted Jewelers. Harry noticed that just walking with Draco caught the attention of at least one reporter, but so far, no one truly seemed to be paying them any attention. In the Enchanted Jewelers, there was no one aside from the woman who owned the shop. She looked them over curiously.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. What can I do for you?”

Harry decided that he should be the one to answer her. “Good morning. We're here to buy engagement rings. What do you have?”

She was obviously overwhelmed by surprise for a moment before recovering her composure. “Oh, er... hmm. I'm not sure if I have any engagement sets specifically for two men, but that's no problem at all. I can show you everything I have, and if nothing strikes you as just right, I can design a set for you.”

Draco summoned one of the many provided tall and comfortable chairs over to the counter to sit in as he peered intently at the woman. “I might be interested in a simple gold band with my birthstone in it. What do you think, Harry? Your stone is a ruby; would you like that?”

Harry summoned a chair to sit in as well. “Er, well, no. I'm not sure why, but I've never really liked rubies.”

Draco shrugged. “Diamonds are universally accepted as engagement stones, and can hold a lot of magic.” He pulled the silver dragon pendant out from under his robes and held it up for Harry to see. “Like this pendant that you gave me for Christmas. It's positively bursting with protective magic.”

“May I see that, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco scrutinized her warily for a moment before taking the necklace off and handing it to her. She inspected it intently for a moment, her face scrunching up with a frown.

“Is there a problem Miss, er...” Harry trailed off when he realized that he didn't know her name.

“Lavisham,” she informed him absently. “And no, there's no problem. I'm just surprised that this pendant didn't melt when this spellwork was cast on it. The pendant was created by a muggle, no?”

“Well, actually a wizard. I went to a muggle shop, but the man working the counter recognized me,” Harry explained with a slight but unconscious wince because he hated being recognized. “He told me that he was a squib but that his family was gifted – er, how did he put it? That they had secretly been jewelry wizards for generations. Anyway, he showed me a selection of pieces made by his father and grandfather and I chose that pendant.”

Miss Lavisham nodded slowly in thought. “Much makes sense now. I always wondered if this maker's mark was associated with an unregistered jewelry wizard. In any case, that also explains why the pendant didn't melt from the spells. They're really far too strong for this metal. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that the spells were performed by a powerful witch or wizard who knew almost nothing about jewelry.”

Harry flushed and scratched the side of his neck with the back of his nails. “Er, well, that would be me. And Hermione. She read enough to know to cast a protection spell on the pendant before we put anything else on it – specifically to prevent it from melting or rejecting the magic.”

Miss Lavisham nodded in understanding. “It's good work. I'm impressed. This pendant will likely be indestructible until the end of time and the person wearing it will be extremely hard to kill. It can't ward off an Unforgivable Killing Curse – unfortunately – but anything less than that will likely just evaporate into thin air.”

Draco tilted his head to the side and peered at Harry. “I didn't realize that. I could sense that it was full of protection magic, but I didn't realize that _you_ had cast the spells personally or that it was so very powerful. I just assumed that you had bought it with standard spells already on it.”

Harry shrugged and decided that he didn't want to explain that he hadn't thought to buy a present for Draco at all until he watched Draco hand Hermione a present to give to him. Then he had basically wandered along in mild depression until a muggle jewelry shop called out to him and he went in – only to find this pendant, which had seemed perfect for Draco. Harry wasn't entirely sure if the whole thing had been fated or some seriously stupid good luck.

“In any case,” Miss Lavisham said as she handed the pendant back to Draco. “I have a wide selection of rings. Some already have spells on them – for protection or health or luck. Others are free from all spells but made to accept magic easily. If you wanted, Mr. Potter, to cast all the same spells on _this_ ring – for example – it would quite possibly end up twice as powerful. It would be able to absorb and hold more magic than the pendant. That said, you could put other spells on it – such as spells to ensure longevity.”

Harry was looking over the ring she had handed him. It was a fairly plain gold band with a small diamond set into the band. He could see how it would appeal to a wizard who only cared about adding spells to it. He looked at Draco.

“I'm not an expert in jewelry or anything, but doesn't this seem a bit plain to you?”

Draco smirked. “Why Potter, apparently you do have some culture after all. I assumed that your taste would be rather common, so that's what I was asking for. If you are looking for something more refined, then I wouldn't mind seeing something with vines or snakes carved into it.”

“Vines?” Harry questioned in disbelief.

“Vines represent entwining two lives together and harvesting good fortune,” Draco explained. “As for snakes, well,” Draco waved his hand – palm up – up and down in front of Harry as if saying: _you and snakes, you know_.

“I do like snakes,” Harry murmured thoughtfully. “But maybe a dragon would be better?”

Draco chuckled and shook his head. “Nearly everything I own has a dragon on it somewhere or other. I think I want my engagement ring to have something else on it.”

“Do you not like dragons?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Love 'em! Why do you _think_ they're on almost everything I own?” Draco asked with a grin.

A bell jingled just then, letting them know that someone else had just come into the shop. Miss Lavisham indicated that she'd be right back and went over to talk to the newcomers.

“Oh no worries!” The man assured her.

“We're just looking,” the woman added with a bright smile. The couple then slowly wandered around the shop, taking a very long time to look at everything in all of the display cases.

Harry and Draco exchanged a knowing smirk.

“I can send them away if you like,” Miss Lavisham said when she returned to them and realized that the new couple was covertly watching them.

“No, that's quite alright,” Draco declined with a shake of his head. “As I was saying, I still think that vines would be a good idea.”

Miss Lavisham smiled at them and set a ring on the counter for them to take a look at. “Since you both want something a bit more refined, then what do you think of this one?”

Harry picked it up first, glanced at it, then said nothing as he handed it to Draco. It was a white gold band with three diamonds set vertically across the center of the band. On either side of them were horizontal 'stripes' where the metal had been removed. At about ten and two were a set of vertical stripes in gold.

“That's a new piece and there's only one of them, so it's guaranteed to be unique,” Miss Lavisham informed them. “I can have a second one made if you like it.

“Er...” Draco was disconcerted to find that he was having a rare moment in which he didn't want to offend someone, and so, he didn't know what to say.

Harry burst out in a laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“What?” Draco asked curiously.

“It reminds me of my toaster!” Harry blurted out before his mind could remind him that he should try to have a little tact.

“Are you referring to the device I found in a muggle hotel room that has slots to place bread in?” Draco asked, inspecting the ring all over again.

Harry nodded, biting his lip anxiously because he could see Miss Lavisham frowning.

Slowly, Draco nodded as well. “Yes, I can see the resemblance.” He set the ring back on the counter. “I think we're looking for something different.”

“Alright,” Miss Lavisham stated in acceptance before fetching another ring. “How's this?”

This ring had a wide band in white gold. The center and majority of the band had a decorative paisley pattern on it horizontally. On either side of the decorative panel was a strip of twisted yellow gold followed by a strip of polished white gold. It was a striking and lovely ring.

“I like it,” Harry murmured as he handed it to Draco.

Draco could sense that Harry wasn't saying something. “But?” He also liked the band, but felt that it wasn't something he wanted to wear on a regular basis.

“But I'm not sure it's... me...” Harry tried to explain, frustrated that he couldn't find the right words.

Miss Lavisham smiled. “Certainly understandable. We'll just keep looking until we find the perfect ring. I know you said you don't want anything plain, but perhaps you might like one of these after all.” She held up a tray of rings that were all plain bands in various metals. There was gold, white gold, rose gold, silver, platinum, and a black metal Harry didn't recognize. In addition to the variety of metals, there was a variety of finishes. Some were highly polished and shiny while others had a matte finish. A few were even hammered for a multifaceted finish. Lastly, there was an array of widths with some being very narrow and others being very wide.

“No,” Draco stated decisively. “They are all lovely, but I agree with Harry, I want my engagement ring to have some decoration to it.”

“Alright,” Miss Lavisham accepted with a warm smile. She tapped her lips in thought a moment. “Hmm... what about...” She selected a lovely gold band that had a channel of diamonds set horizontally across the center.

“I like that too,” Harry murmured.

“But no,” Draco stated, knowing that Harry wasn't in love with the ring either.

Feeling challenged in the best possible way, Miss Lavisham decided to see if she could lighten the mood a bit. She quickly gathered a bunch of rings on a small tray that she _knew_ they would dislike, but might make them laugh. The first one she held up for inspection was much like the one they had just declined. It was white gold with a channel of stones set into it, only these stones formed a rainbow.

“How about this one?” She asked with a proud yet amused grin.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Because yes, being bent means that I just _love_ rainbows!” He drawled acerbically.

Harry laughed and took the ring. “I don't know, Draco, I kind of do love it.” He slipped the ring onto his finger and admired it. “It's so shiny and pretty.”

Draco chuckled and shook his head. “Shiny and pretty? Is that what you're looking for?”

“Can't hurt,” Harry stated with a shrug and an unrepentant grin. He held his hand up for Draco to see the ring. “Plus, rainbow.”

“I'm not wearing a rainbow, Potter!” Draco declined with a laugh.

“Oh but Draco,” Harry protested with a playful pout. He slipped the ring off his finger and onto Draco's. “It's a rainbow.”

Draco was still chuckling even as he shook his head. “I said no. What about something more refined, like that?” He tapped on the display case over a ring that was a wide white gold band covered by a narrower yellow gold band.

“But there's no sparklies or pretties,” Harry protested, sticking his lip out slightly and giving Draco his best puppy dog eyes.

Draco snorted in amusement and gave Harry a playful shove. “Exactly.”

Without a word but with a fond smile, Miss Lavisham handed them a band that looked like it had been braided, but was simply carved to look that way.

“No,” Harry declined with a shrug.

Deciding that her plan to make them laugh wasn't going quite as well as she wanted it to, she set the tray down rather than show any more rings from it. Then she bit her lip in thought as she wondered what would interest them. Harry spotted a ring in the group that caught his eye.

“What about this one?” He asked as he picked it up and showed it to Draco. The ring was a gold band with a braided effect, but this differed in that it also looked like the scales of a snake.

“Hmm... that's actually... not bad,” Draco admitted. He studied Harry's face for a moment, puzzled because Harry seemed to be hiding something. “Do _you_ actually like it?”

“Well, yes,” Harry answered.

“But?” Draco pressed with a raised brow.

“Maybe it's stupid of me, but I actually like the rainbow one better,” Harry admitted with a shrug.

Draco sighed and hung his head for a moment. He held up his hand to look at the ring again – which he was still wearing simply because he hadn't had a reason to take it off yet. “Dare I even ask if there are two of them?”

Nearly gobsmacked, Miss Lavisham bit her lips together for a moment before nodding. “Actually, yes. They were made as a set for a customer who ultimately decided on something else.”

Draco tilted his head side to side as he looked the ring over. He and Harry _had_ promised to have fun with this whole engagement thing, so... why not? Having playful rings would set a playful tone for the whole show. Plus, it might make his father scowl to death, so, bonus!

“I suppose it's growing on me,” Draco stated with a small smile at Harry. “Are you sure?”

Harry grinned at Draco and nodded. “Dead certain.”

“Alright then,” Draco capitulated. “We'll take them.”

“Hooray!” Harry cheered jubilantly as he threw his arms around Draco and hugged him tight.

Draco chuckled at how happy Harry was, and felt strangely happy himself for making Harry so. He tried to push Harry away anyway. “Steady on there, Potter, we're in public.”

Harry gave him a challenging look. It was then that Draco realized that he was going to have a much harder time acting like he was over the moon than he'd thought he would. He was a private person by nature, and it had been drilled into him that even married couples in love should act with dignity and decorum in public. This plan of theirs already had a fatal flaw. Taking a deep breath, he decided to surrender to the inevitable.

“Oh alright Harry!” Draco exclaimed before pressing a soft kiss to Harry's lips. “Happy now?”

Harry positively beamed at him. “Yes. I am.”

Draco took the other ring from Miss Lavisham – who was watching them with definite interest – and slipped it on Harry's finger. Luckily, it fit. Of course, that was probably because all the rings in this shop were spelled to adjust automatically to the finger they were on. He then held his hand out to Harry.

“Are you ready to take that walk now?”

Grinned, Harry slipped his hand in Draco's and nodded. “I am. So wait; who's paying for these?”

“I feel like I should since I'm the one who proposed,” Draco answered with a smile, enjoying the fact that the couple who were probably reporters had drifted close enough that it was overt that they were snooping and trying to get a good look at the rings – as well as listen in on the conversation.

“Alright, then I get to pay for the cakes when we decide to go taste them. Eventually,” Harry stated with a grin, also having fun with this mad plan of theirs.

“Perfect,” Draco agreed. He looked over to find that Miss Lavisham had conjured up a bill for him to sign. He did, in essence giving her permission to submit the bill to Gringott's for payment from his vault. Hand in hand, they left the shop.

For the first time ever, Harry wasn't upset by the fact that he hadn't finished his shopping before Diagon Alley started filling up with customers. He led Draco to all the shops he needed to stop at – for food and other basic supplies – and then went with as Draco did his own shopping – for potions ingredients and a new set of dress robes. Harry even let himself be talked into a new set as well!

“You have to have something to wear to all those dinners we're planning to have,” Draco pointed out, silently praying that Harry _wouldn't_ wear the same thing to all of them, well tailored or not.

Harry simply nodded in agreement before giving Draco a kiss that made the gorgeous blond blush since his tailor was watching them with an odd expression. This public affection thing was going to be the death of him! After a few seconds, Draco broke off the kiss and turned his head away from the tailor until he was composed again. Harry chuckled softly and focused his smile on the tailor.

“My fiancé tells me that I need a few things for my wardrobe. Can you help me with that?”

“Certainly, Mr. Potter,” the tailor assured him with an unflappable air. “Right this way.”

Nearly an hour later, Harry was shocked by how much fun he was having shopping for new clothes! Even so, he was relieved when they were finally able to escape. Once again hand in hand, Harry and Draco quietly debated what they should do next. It was certain based on the fact that every eye was following them that their plan was well and truly in action.

“Lunch?” Harry suggested.

“I am rather hungry,” Draco admitted since it was a good two hours past his normal lunch time. “But I'm also getting a headache.” As much fun as he was having – which surprised him since he was only shopping – being the center of attention was starting to get on his nerves. Plus, a group of Weasleys had just spotted them and were making a beeline in their direction.

Harry noticed this too and decided to give Draco some space. “Alright. Why don't we go our separate ways for now? See you on Wednesday?”

“I'll meet you at the Regal Dragon at half seven,” Draco proposed.

Harry agreed with a nod, but when Draco tried to take a step away, Harry tugged him closer to whisper in his ear. “I know you want to escape all of this attention, but we have a crowd of reporters just over there. Would you mind if I took advantage of it by giving them a show?”

Draco pressed his lips together in thought, then slowly nodded. “Better make it a good one.”

Grinning, Harry placed one hand on the back of Draco's neck and gave him a kiss so possessive that Draco nearly melted into a puddle of goo on the street. His knees went weak and he had to cling to Harry lest he fall. Harry obligingly held onto him and deepened the kiss even more, making them both moan.

When they broke apart, Draco felt like he couldn't breathe and wanted nothing more than to get away from all the avid spectators. Taking a step clear of Harry, he Disapparated. Harry felt inexplicably sad to see him go, but didn't have time to dwell on it before Ron, Ginny, and Molly surrounded him.

“Alright there, mate?” Ron asked in concern.

“Never better,” Harry assured him with a grin.

“Is that so?” Ron asked suspiciously.

Harry held up his left hand. “Got engaged.”

“Oh Harry!” Ginny burst out excitedly as she hugged him tight. “That's wonderful!”

“Congratulations,” Molly said as she took a turn hugging him.

“Er, but,” Ron mumbled as he made a vague gesture toward the spot that Draco had been standing. “Malfoy...”

“What about him?” Harry asked with a light tone of challenge.

“I thought you two broke up for good at the end of Eighth Year,” Ron elaborated.

Harry shrugged. “We were never really going out, so it wasn't so much that we broke up as we just went our separate ways.” He put an arm around Ron's shoulders. “Listen, I need to talk to you and Hermione.”

Ron smiled as he immediately assumed that Harry wanted to talk about Best Man and Maid of Honor duties. “Yeah, Mione'll be home in about an hour.”

“Alright. Feel like grabbing a bite?” Harry asked, smiling at Ginny and Molly to invite them too.

“I could eat,” Ron admitted with a shrug.

Ginny snorted. “I'd've died of shock if you suggested otherwise!”

“Oh ha ha,” Ron remarked dryly as he rolled his eyes.

Grinning, Harry led them back to the Leaky where Hannah served excellent food.

 

***

 

“Are you insane?!” Ron demanded later that night when he, Harry, and Hermione had carried their dessert and glasses of wine into the cozy parlor where they could sit on a sofa next to the fire as they chatted.

Harry laughed. “Probably.”

“Harry, Ron's right. This is a very bad idea,” Hermione stated with a frown.

“Oh Mione, I know you're just concerned about me, but I'm happier than I've been in a long time. Possibly ever,” Harry informed her.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You just told us that you agreed to have a _fake_ _engagement_ with Draco Malfoy! The man you were more than half in love with all of Eighth Year! Did you think about what will happen when he decides that he doesn't want to get actual married to you and breaks it off?”

“Yeah,” Harry murmured with a shrug. “We agreed that if either of us found someone else, we'd break it off amicably.”

Hermione shook her head harder than the first time. “Oh Harry... You're being too thick for your own good again. It doesn't matter if you play this game for a month or a year; at the end of it, you're going to be heartbroken.”

“Shattered!” Ron added to emphasize the point.

Harry sighed and slumped just a little bit. “I know... But in the meantime, Draco offered me everything I ever wanted. I just thought I'd be stupid and woefully unGryffindor if I passed it up because it's going to hurt in the end. I figure that if I can keep reminding myself that he's not serious about me and that he never will be, I can have fun with him playing happy families until he decides to move on.”

“Harry no! I _beg_ you, please don't do this!” Hermione half wailed, actual tears sliding from her eyes.

“Don't you remember how lost and depressed you were for _months_ after we left Hogwarts?” Ron asked. “You yourself said earlier that you weren't even in a relationship and it affected you that badly. How do you think it's going to feel when you end it this time?”

“You deserve a _real_ relationship, with someone who truly loves you,” Hermione stated firmly.

Harry pressed his lips together and stared blankly at his blueberry cheesecake ice cream as he thought this over. Eventually, he sighed. “I know you're right. But I don't care. I want Draco, and if he's willing to give me _anything_ – even just a meaningless show – I plan to take it and hold onto it for as long as he lets me.”

Ron sat back and stared at the ceiling as Hermione let out a long suffering sigh and rubbed her forehead with her right hand. She shook her head yet again, then shrugged.

“Alright, if that's what you want, then I'll stand by you,” she said.

“What?!” Ron blurted out incredulously. “You can't be serious!”

Hermione gave her boyfriend a sympathetic look. “I am. Harry's like a brother to me and I want him to be happy. If he thinks this will make him happy – even if only temporarily – then I'll do whatever I can to help him. He deserves it.”

Ron sighed in capitulation. “Yeah... he does. Just promise me that when this is all over and Malfoy has destroyed his heart, I can beat that ferret to death and bury the body where no one will ever find it.”

“No!” Harry blurted out in horror while Hermione shrugged and made a gesture that let Ron know she wasn't opposed to the idea.

Smiling, Ron changed the subject. “So... what sort of stag do appeals to you?”

“Hmm...” Harry hummed in thought. “I'll have to think about that.”

 

***

 

Draco was still half asleep at breakfast the next morning when the Daily Prophet arrived, otherwise he might have remembered the important news. He might have tried to warn his parents. As it was, he wasn't just half asleep, he was still waiting for the hangover potion to kick in.

After getting home yesterday, it had hit him like a ton of bricks that he had _actually_ gotten engaged to Harry Potter – fake or not. It had happened! At first, he was elated that he had managed to use Slytherin tactics to get Harry right where he wanted him, so he'd had a few drinks to celebrate. Then he remembered that Harry was just putting on a show for the rest of the world and that had depressed him enough that he'd kept on drinking until he passed out.

Thus, when Lucius Malfoy took the paper from their owl and opened it, Draco wasn't thinking about any of the possible headlines that were likely to assault him. For the first and _only_ time in his entire life, Lucius actually spit out the tea in his mouth as he spluttered in astonishment. Narcissa and Draco both looked at him incredulously – Narcissa utterly confused and Draco slowly wishing he could simply vanish on the spot.

“Lucius?” Narcissa asked in concern, but her husband was still incoherent from shock.

“Er...” Draco droned for a second as he scratched his neck and looked away. “I suspect that he's just found out the happy news.”

“Draco?” Narcissa questioned, turning her piercing gaze on her son.

“Er, _well_...” Draco mumbled, not entirely sure how to soften the blow.

Narcissa impatiently snatched the paper from her husband and took a good look at the headline: _Our Beloved Savior Harry Potter Engaged to Former Death Eater Draco Malfoy!_ Just below the bold print – which was flashing back and forth between dark red and bright yellow – was a clear picture of the two of them kissing rather passionately in the middle of Diagon Alley. The article itself went on to talk about how the couple had purchased rings before spending the day shopping together. There were plenty of interviews from clerks and witnesses alike talking about how the two of them already seemed quite happy together. Most of the rest of the paper was devoted to columns by the staff writers discussing and debating the match, including frequent invitations for their readers to write in and let everyone know what they thought of this shocking development.

“How can this be?” Lucius finally managed to ask, staring at his son as if he had just discovered a bizarre new species of insect.

Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead as he thought about what to say. He desperately wanted to convince his parents that this was a good idea with a minimum of effort. He obviously couldn't tell them that it was fake because that would utterly undermine the entire point of the engagement, but he wasn't sure they would believe that he and Harry had been secretly planning this for months – especially since they hadn't even spoken to each other since leaving Hogwarts.

“It's what I want,” Draco finally said.

“What you want?” Lucius asked in disbelief. “To be married to that Potter brat?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed honestly. He might have suggested a fake engagement to lure Harry in, but he had been serious about it. He _knew_ Harry wanted to get married and have kids as soon as possible, but he was more than half certain that Harry would never seriously consider marrying _him_ , so he suggested the next best thing. A fake engagement that he fully planned on enjoying as long as it lasted. Despite the two of them agreeing to continue on through a fake marriage and even kids, Draco just knew that Harry would come to his senses and break it off long before then.

Lucius narrow his eyes suspiciously. “And when did this become what you want?”

Draco took a deep breath and prepared to let his father see him being vulnerable. “At some point during Eighth Year when I shared a room with Harry and fell in love with him.” If he were _really_ being honest, it was probably a few years before that.

Lucius was tempted to roll his eyes. “This is because I let it slip to the paper that we've nearly settle on a bride for you, isn't it? You're trying to make a point, only I'm not entirely sure what point you're trying to make.”

Draco raised a brow of disbelief. “That I want to marry the man I love...” he trailed off with a significant look at his father.”

“May I see the ring?” Narcissa interrupted before Lucius could say anything.

Draco gave her an adoring smile and held out his hand for her to inspect.

“Interesting...” she murmured in a tone that was equal parts disapproving (of the gaudiness of the jewelry) and support – or at least _trying_ to be supportive.

Draco smirked. “Harry picked them out. I tried to persuade him that something else would be more appropriate, but his heart was quite set on them, and I found I couldn't deny him anything.”

Narcissa's eyes flickered back and forth between the ring and Draco's eyes until she realized that she was seeing genuine love reflected in them. Love for Harry. She gave him a warm smile.

“Oh, my darling boy!” She exclaimed softly. “This is... really happening. Congratulations!” She yanked on his hand so that he was forced to come over and hug her, which he was only too happy to do.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he kissed her on the cheek. They both looked over to Lucius to gauge just how much of a problem he was going to be.

Lucius was staring into his cup of tea, which he hadn't drank from since he'd spit out what was in his mouth. He looked distant but thoughtful. His eyes traveled back and forth ever so slightly, as if he was thinking up and discarding plan after ever more mad plan. After a few seconds, he realized that they were watching him and looked up with a heavy sigh.

“Fine... I suppose that there are worse ways to drag our family name back out of the mud created by the war,” he admitted quietly. Almost too quietly to be heard.

“Father, if you try to harm Harry in _any_ way, I will never forgive you,” Draco warned, his eyes narrowed to convey just how serious he was.

“Why him?” Lucius asked in frustration.

Draco let out a mirthless laugh. “Do you honestly think I _chose_ to fall in love with him? I spent _years_ hating him and making his life miserable! If anyone had told me – at any point prior to Fourth Year – that this was going to happen, I'd've probably murdered myself to avoid even the slightest possibility. Between Fourth Year and Sixth, I would have glared and denied it with every breath, but I think I knew it might be love by Seventh Year. Long before he saved me from certain death by Fiendfyre. And that's another thing! I never did _anything_ to make him like me, but he saved me anyway. I think he permanently stole my heart in that moment and I just didn't realize it until, oh... perhaps three hours after I'd left Hogwarts for good.”

Lucius was silent for a long moment, which they let him have because both Draco and Narcissa were afraid that he was going to say something unforgivable – such as an order for Draco to break it off immediately. Then Lucius exhaled a profound sigh.

“I see. Well, if it's love, then who am I to stop you?”

Draco felt his heart stop for a moment before it started racing. “You mean it?” He couldn't believe his ears and the world seemed to be spinning just enough to leave him feeling off balance.

“I do,” Lucius confirmed with a tiny smile. He hadn't reached approval yet, but he was able to accept that this would make Draco happy, and his son's happiness was all he had ever truly wanted. He just wished that Draco would be happy married to a pureblooded witch from a prominent family who would work with him to rebuild the Malfoy name and make it better than ever.

Narcissa purred happily that she wasn't fated to be the mediator between them in this matter. She hugged Draco again since he was still in her arms, and then kissed his cheek. “I have so many ideas, my love. I think that a spring or a summer wedding in our garden would be lovely.”

“This summer?” Draco asked in surprise since it was June and the end of summer was just around the corner. That didn't seem like enough time to prepare a proper wedding. At least not proper according to pureblood standards.

“Don't be silly, darling!” Narcissa exclaimed with a laugh. “I'll need until _next_ summer!”

Draco stroked his chin in thought. “We haven't set a date yet, but Harry _did_ mention a fall wedding. What if that's what he prefers?”

Narcissa frowned in concern. “But what about what _you_ prefer?”

“I've never really thought about it enough to have a preference,” Draco told her with a shrug.

“Well, then I suppose that fall would be lovely,” Narcissa admitted. “The autumnal color scheme would naturally be more Gryffindor than Slytherin, but we can work with that. A winter wedding would have its own charm by favoring white, which is neutral and compliments any theme.”

Because Draco really had always assumed that his mother or parents would plan his wedding for him, he'd never given any thought to any of this. So he shrugged.

“I'm having dinner with Harry on Wednesday; we can talk about it then.”

“Lovely,” Narcissa stated with an adoring smile.

 

***

 

Harry walked into the Regal Dragon to find Draco waiting for him. Draco frowned at him and pointed to the floor. “This is an Apparation point; why didn't you just Apparate in?”

“Never been in here before,” Harry replied with a shrug. “I had to Apparate down the street and ask for directions.”

Draco chuckled. “Oh. I bet that made someone's day.”

Harry grinned at him and held out his hand for Draco to take. “Quite. I nearly had to sign autographs and pose for pictures, but I figured that since I was dressed up anyway, why not? Luckily, I managed to walk away before they gathered up the courage to ask.”

Draco smiled as he slipped his hand in Harry's and pulled him close. “I've made reservations, since I didn't think you'd remember to do so.”

Harry grinned a bit sheepishly. “Good job on that since you're right.” He looked toward the door where the same couple from the Enchanted Jewelers had just entered and was trying their best to act like they had no interest in Harry and Draco. Smirking at Draco, Harry gave him a tender kiss of greeting, and then shifted his attention to the Hostess, who was now waiting patiently for them to finish their greeting so that she could show them to their reserved table.

Draco couldn't help but moan softly in disappointment that the kiss ended so quickly. Then he mentally berated himself for getting carried away. He didn't even like kissing in public!

Soon enough, they were seated at a square table big enough for four. Draco had specified that they'd want a slightly bigger table since the tables for two were often too small to properly hold all the food from a six course meal. Plus, he had hoped to have plenty of space between the two of them so that he could keep his composure. But Harry had other plans.

Draco chose a seat facing away from the majority of the other diners and Harry thwarted his plans for space and composure by sitting in the chair directly to Draco's left. Draco noticed that even though they were only 90 degrees apart, Harry was actually facing most of the people he wasn't. This made him frown in concern.

“We could switch seats if they stare at you,” he offered.

“I'll be fine,” Harry assured him with a smile. “Besides, this is a show, right? Something we're meant to have fun with. I figure that means smiling for the audience.” As Harry said that, he took Draco's hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

This made Draco inexplicably grumpy. “It doesn't _all_ have to be a show.”

“I agree, which is why I cast privacy spells so that we could talk without being overheard,” Harry informed him.

“Alright,” Draco murmured, leaving his hand in Harry's since he seemed determined to hold onto it. “I recommend the special they call the Ocean Tour. It features sea food from around the world, such as hibachi grilled calamari for starters. The bacon and clam chowder is positively sinful!”

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed with a soft moan.

With a nod of agreement, Draco beckoned a waitress over and proceeded to give her an order so elaborate that Harry lost all track of what was what. All he knew for certain was that Draco had ordered an extremely expensive bottle of Cuvée Diamant. He felt guilty about letting Draco pay for everything.

“Er... are we going to split the bill for this?” Harry asked, praying that Draco said yes.

“Of course not!” Draco scoffed haughtily. “I suggested we come here _and_ that we do so weekly, thus it's my pleasure to pay.”

Harry held his breath for a moment to stop from protesting. Not only did he _not_ want those watching him to think they were fighting already, but he didn't actually want to fight. “Alright... what if we take turns? You pay this time and I pay next Wednesday.”

It was Draco's turn to hold his breath to stop from protesting. “Fine. But I assure you that paying for dinner on a weekly basis will not empty my vault.”

Harry dared to ruffle Draco's perfectly styled hair, and then kissed him when he scowled. “It's not about that. It's simply the fair thing to do.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Gryffindor!”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Harry blurted out. “We should come up with stupidly silly pet names for each other that we only use in public.”

Draco raised a wary brow. “Such as...?”

Harry grinned charmingly. “Oh... I could call you kitty-boo and you could call me love muffin – or some such.”

“Salazar's sweaty sack! That's worse than the normal pet names of sugar pie and honey bunch!” Draco burst out in revulsion.

“Are you saying you prefer sugar pie, or honey bunch?” Harry asked with an impish smirk.

Draco laughed. “Neither! Can't we just use dear or love?”

Harry pouted adorably. “Aww... You mean that silly pet names don't appeal to you _at all_?”

Draco tilted his head and gave Harry a _look_ . “Do you honestly want me to call you, hmm... _cuddle bunny..._ in public?!”

“Cuddle bunny, eh?” Harry asked with a thoughtful nod. “I rather like that.”

Draco huffed a laugh. “It _should_ be mangy mutt!”

Harry tilted his head as if conceding a point. “If you like, but then I think I'll call _you_ cuddle bunny – no! Cuddle _kitten_!”

Chuckling, Draco shook his head. “You want me to die of embarrassment, don't you?”

“That's the point,” Harry insisted. “That they're embarrassing. They're silly and fun, and we agreed that we wanted to have fun with this, right?”

“That we did,” Draco admitted with a nod of his head. “Alright mutt, what do we call each other in private then?”

Despite the privacy spell, Harry leaned over and whispered huskily in Draco's ear. “I'll call you Draco and you call me Master.”

“Oh _really_???” Draco challenged with both interest and dislike. “I think it should be the other way around; I call you Harry and you call _me_ Master!”

Smirking mischievously, Harry kissed him. “As you wish, _Master_...”

Draco had to inhale to prevent a groan of longing. “Er... Stop that! We haven't even gotten our dinner yet!”

Harry looked off to the side where their waitress was carrying a tray toward them. “Does that mean you plan to take me home and have your naughty way with me as soon as we're done eating?”

Needing a little space, Draco playfully shoved Harry away. “Of course, mangy mutt.”

“Aww, cuddlecat!” Harry purred and leaned over to kiss Draco once more even as their waitress set a plate of wonderfully aromatic calamari in from of each of them. She smiled at them fondly as she opened the cuvée and poured half a glass for each of them. Draco gestured for her to leave the bottle as he pulled free of the kiss. He was finding it strangely hard to breathe at the moment, much less speak.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured before she left the circle of privacy again.

“My pleasure, Mr. Potter,” she assured him with a warm smile.

Once she was gone, Draco took a sip of his cuvée in order to clear the tender and juicy calamari from his mouth. “Let's talk about something more serious for a moment. My mother wants to know whether she should plan for a spring wedding – or summer, fall, or winter. She thinks that spring or summer in the Manor garden would be lovely.”

“I thought we were going to avoid setting a date until the Prophet and your father started pressuring us,” Harry reminded him.

“True, but perhaps if we picked a season, my mother would have something to occupy herself with until we _do_ set a date,” Draco murmured.

“You want the wedding to take place at Malfoy Manor?” Harry asked in mild surprise. He'd figured that having a dark lord live in the place for a few years would kill any sort of festive mood.

“Of course... unless you prefer somewhere else.”

Harry shrugged. “I always assumed the Burrow, but I suppose that it doesn't really matter to me – not in the same way as it would matter to you, I'm sure.”

“Alright. Well, if we agree on the Manor, the season won't really matter,” Draco said with a small smile. “Yes, spring and summer are lovely in the garden, but so is autumn. Even winter can be breathtaking viewed from the ballroom.”

Harry looked at the calamari that he was pushing around his plate with a fork. It looked and smelled divine, but his stomach currently felt like it was hosting a battle between Hercules and a nine headed hydra. “Well, if we're thinking about dates, any objection to the First of September?”

“I'd say that a year and roughly three months is a bit excessive for a time frame. Personally, I think six months would be perfect – say mid January. Although, then we run into the fact that everyone will still be exhausted from the Christmas and New Year holidays.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “No, I mean _this_ September.”

Draco was taken aback. “You mean in three months? Not even three months, _two and a half_ months! That's not enough time to plan out a proper wedding!”

“Why not?” Harry wondered, thinking that all they really needed was a place to have the wedding and a person to perform the ceremony. The rest was all fluff that was nice to have but not necessary.

“Be serious, Harry!” Draco blurted out in alarm. “There's the caterer, flowers, and having a set of dress robes made for each of us at the very least. Then there's coming up with a guest list and sending out invitations. A cake! And, and, and...” Draco fell silent as he realized that he wasn't even sure what else. His mother was bound to spend at least three hours lecturing him on it though.

“None of that sounds like it really needs to take more than a couple of months,” Harry pointed out reasonably.

“Well, no... especially if we used house elves for the food and cake,” Draco admitted. “The dress robes might still take at least a month, but I suppose we have time for even that. Any particular reason _why_ you want the First of September?”

Harry smiled fondly off at nothing. “It's a day that changed my entire life.”

Draco frowned in confusion. “Going to Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed. “I suppose the actual day that changed my life was my 11th birthday – or maybe just before that when my Hogwarts letter arrived, but my aunt and uncle kept taking and destroying my letter, so I had no idea what it was. All I knew at the time was that it was addressed to me, even going so far as to point out that I was kept in the cupboard under the stairs. My aunt and uncle were guilted into giving me my own room and the letters just kept coming and coming until my uncle snapped and tried to run away from them. No matter where we went, the letters would find us. Finally, we were holed up in this dismal little place in the middle of nowhere when Hagrid arrived to deliver my letter personally. He showed up at midnight on my birthday and broke down the door. I'd never seen anyone like him and he felt like a messenger of the Gods. He gave me my letter, a birthday cake, and even told me that my parents hadn't died in a car crash like I'd been told my whole life. Then he took me shopping for my school supplies, but despite all of that, I couldn't bring myself to believe that it was _real_ until the day I stepped on the Hogwarts Express.”

Harry was still staring off at nothing, clearly absorbed in memories. Draco was staring at him in open mouth shock. After a moment, Draco swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat before taking a bracing sip of the expensive champagne.

“Your aunt and uncle kept you in a _cupboard_?”

Harry shifted his attention to Draco and nodded. “Yes, and I was punished if I so much as mentioned _muggle_ books that talked about magic – such as the Tales of King Arthur because of Merlin. Or the Lord of the Rings, for obvious reasons. I remember talking about a dream once that had something weird and reminiscent of magic in it, and I got yelled at for it even though dreams aren't _supposed_ to make sense.”

“And people wonder why I dislike muggles,” Draco muttered with a light glare at his glass just before he finished it off and refilled it.

“Not _all_ muggles are like that,” Harry reminded him. “In fact, most of them aren't.”

Draco shook his head. “I don't think you quite understand. We don't dislike muggles because we think they are entirely made up of bad people, we dislike them because they tend to treat our kind like they treated you. There's a very strict Statute of Secrecy because if we just went around telling muggles about us, they'd try to hurt us. Even if most of them were accepting and inclined to befriend us, enough of them would try to kill or capture us that we'd _all_ be in grave danger.”

Harry didn't really know what to say to that. So he opted for a relatively safe: “Alright.”

Draco looked Harry in the eye for a moment before taking his hand and kissing it – the same as Harry had done to him earlier. “In any case, if you have your heart set on the First of September, then I suppose we have officially just set our date.”

Harry smiled at him with suspiciously watery eyes. Then he turned impish again, purring: “Aww cuddlecat!”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Mangy mutt,” he grumbled affectionately as he ruffled Harry's hair.

“Are you ready for your next course?” The waitress asked even though she already held a tray bearing their chowder.

“Yes,” Harry murmured softly. “Yes we are.”

 

***

 

“Alright, I'm here,” Harry stated just after he entered the shop.

“I was beginning to think you weren't coming,” Draco murmured. He then tapped on one of the large pieces of paper floating in front of him. “What do you think of this design?”

Harry looked it over with a puzzled frown. “What's wrong with a regular set of dress robes, like those over there? I was thinking I might like to wear a muggle tux...”

“Harry,” Draco said in a half exasperated half cajoling tone. “This is going to be the most important outfit we wear in our entire lives. We _can't_ just wear any old thing!” He gestured to the stern and extremely competent tailor as if ordering him to explain things to Harry.

“Mr. Malfoy is right. You'll want to look your absolute best.”

“But I really don't get much better than this,” Harry whinged as he indicated his appearance.

Draco put his hands on Harry's arms. “Look, every time I am reluctant to do something, you tell me that we agreed to have fun with this, so will you please at least give it a try? Think of this as picking out the perfect costumes to play our parts in.”

“Costumes?” Harry parroted, perking up with interest. “Actually, that sounds fun! Can I dress like a clown?”

Draco made a sound like he longed to tear out his hair. “No!”

“Can we at least wear something sparkly and shiny?” Harry asked with a hopeful and somewhat eerie grin.

Draco chuckled. “That could be arranged. Take this design – for example – I planned to have clusters of gems embroidered onto it to form my constellation.”

“The notes say that you want the robes to be black like the night sky,” Harry pointed out. “But that's the expected thing. I think it should be a different color; perhaps a dark blue, or a very vivid shade of bright blue. I'm surprised that you don't want to wear Slytherin green.”

“Black is traditional, but you're right, they don't have to be black,” Draco admitted. “But I don't really look good in green, ironically enough. Show him,” Draco directed this to the tailor, who promptly used a spell to change the color of the robes Draco was wearing – which was a plain set used to model each idea until the customer was satisfied with the design.

“Hmm...” Harry hummed as he looked the now green robes over. “You're right. Green clashes with your eyes and skin tone, making you look a bit sickly. That actually explains why I always thought you looked just a little nauseous throughout school. I wonder what you look like in Gryffindor red.”

Draco harrumphed a laugh, then gestured to the tailor to make it so. Harry bit his lip and moaned as he looked Draco over. Even Draco had to admit as he looked in a nearby mirror that the color looked good on him. Harry pulled Draco into his arms and nuzzled his neck.

The two of them had _not_ gone home together after dinner the other night, so Harry still grew half aroused whenever he thought about the teasing they had done as they ate. Sadly, Harry had gotten too damn nervous by the end of dessert, and so had claimed to be exhausted. In reality, he had gone home and lay awake in bed thinking about Draco and everything they could be doing until he had wanked himself nearly raw and finally fell asleep. Thankfully, ever since he and Draco had shared a bed for most of Eighth Year, his nightmares had lessened to about once a week or so.

“Gentlemen, kindly show some restraint,” the tailor said acerbically when Draco turned around in Harry's arms and gave him a heated kiss.

Draco pulled back with a feeling like he was five years old again and being scolded for breaking the rules. He cleared his throat and tried his best not to flush from embarrassment. Harry chuckled softly and ruffled his hair.

“You look so adorable like that, cuddlecat.”

Draco rolled his eyes and pushed Harry away. “Stop that you mangy mutt!” He then cast a spell to fix his hair, which made Harry ruffle it again. “Oi! Try that again and I'll hex your fingers off!”

Harry laughed. “Good thing I know an excellent Healer! She'd grow them back in no time.”

Draco ducked to avoid Harry's fingers ruffling him a third time. “Oi! Stop that and change into the model robes so that I can see how you look in Slytherin green.”

“It brings out my eyes, actually,” Harry informed him as he capitulated and stripped his shirt off so that he could don the suggested robes.

Draco smirked in amusement. “You could have left your shirt on. Don't blame me if pictures of your naked chest appear in the Prophet tomorrow.”

“Nah, I hate wearing clothes under robes, it just makes me hot and itchy,” Harry murmured with a shrug.

“That reminds me, do new clothes still make you uncomfortable?” Draco asked with a tiny frown of concern.

“Not sure, I usually have Hermione cast that spell on them so that I don't have to deal with it.”

“Hold on, that's new,” Draco stated, snatching the robes out of Harry's hands so that Harry was forced to stand there topless.

Harry looked down at his chest where a dragon was hovering over his heart. “She's normally on my back but she can fly around wherever she likes.”

Draco reached out and touched the approximately two inch by two inch (with another two or three inches of tail) green and gold dragon with purple eyes. She responded by blowing out a long plume of red and orange fire at him. He moaned softly in longing, a powerful rush of lust nearly overwhelming him. “A dragon...”

Harry grinned and gave him a quick smooch. “I thought you might like that.”

The tailor gave them a quelling look that made Harry chuckle. “Alright, let me have those robes back before he transfigures both of us into frogs and chucks us in the nearest pond.”

Draco had to clear his throat and take a few deep breaths before he could think clearly again. “Right. Here.”

When Harry had the robes on, the tailor spelled them green. Harry examined himself in the mirror and liked what he saw. Draco looked deeply pensive.

“Not bad, mutt. But I'm not certain that green and red make the best colors for a wedding. Change his robes to black.”

A moment later, Harry frowned. “Well of course I look good in black. _Everyone_ does. That's not the point.” He turned to grin at the tailor. “Turn them purple.”

The tailor complied with a reluctant groan. Harry grinned wider than ever.

“No!” Draco growled softly. “That color looks utterly ridiculous on you!”

“I was just trying to figure out the spell, but now I've got it,” Harry informed him with an impish smirk. Before Draco could fully process that statement, Harry flicked his wand at Draco and cast the spell to change the color of the model robes Draco was wearing. Now they resembled a rainbow traveling from his right shoulder to his left hip. “There; perfect!”

Draco looked rather repulsed. “What is it with you and rainbows?!”

“They're pretty!” Harry exclaimed defensively.

“Yes, but not to _wear_!” Draco argued. “I already let you talk me into a rainbow ring, I'm _not_ wearing rainbow robes!”

“Then how about this?” Harry asked as he cast a spell to change the robes to a horrible black and white vertical strip that was reminiscent of prison uniforms from old movies and cartoons.

“You can't be serious!” Draco blurted out in horror. Then he caught the mischievous glint in Harry's eyes and glared at him. “Oh, so it's like that, is it?” He promptly cast a spell to make Harry's robes turn a jarring shade of yellow with orange spots.

“I love it!” Harry pronounced with a grin and a hearty laugh. He flicked his wand to turn Draco's robes the same, but Draco flung himself to the side to avoid the spell.

“Not so fast, mutt!” Draco declared as he changed his own robes to a respectable navy blue. Harry cast again, not only making Draco jump out of the way, but also retaliate by casting a spell to change Harry's robes to a hideous chartreuse. At the same time, Harry turned Draco's robes mauve with red spots.

“That's just wrong!” Draco declared in disgust as he changed them back to navy blue. Harry hit him with a rainbow again while Draco countered by hitting Harry with a pattern like a blue and white tiled floor. After that, the two of them ran around the shop trying to avoid being hit while simultaneously trying to hit the other with the most outrageous and hideous patterns and color combinations possible.

As for the tailor, he quickly gave up all attempts to stop them. Instead, he simply sat back and sipped on a cup of the finest tea as he waited their game out. He did his best to maintain a stern and disapproving expression, but their sheer playful joy kept making his lips twitch into brief smiles.

Eventually, Draco tackled Harry to the ground and wrestled his wand away. Harry laughed and stole a demanding kiss.

“You think that'll stop me?” Harry asked as he waved his hand over Draco and changed both their robes to rainbows.

“Fine!” Draco conceded with a laugh. “I'll let you have your way, but _only_ by having a small rainbow embroidered on the sleeve of our robes! Like so...” He demonstrated by changing both of their robes black with small but pretty rainbows on the left sleeves – right over their biceps.

Harry grinned triumphantly. “Excellent! Now that we have pretties, I want sparklies.”

Draco laughed again and kissed Harry. “I had a feeling you'd say that! Let's have a dragon embroidered over our chests with diamonds – there's nothing sparklier than that.”

“I love it!” Harry decided impulsively.

“But _you_ get to explain to my mother why we're both wearing something so gaudy!” Draco insisted.

“What's to explain?” Harry asked with a shrug. “It's dragons and rainbows, I should think they'd be self explanatory.”

Snickering, Draco ruffled Harry's hair in an attempt to make it a bit neater. Failing, he shook his head and muttered: “Mangy mutt.”

Harry hugged him tight and purred: “Cuddlecat.”

The tailor decided that they might _finally_ be ready to act their age. He cleared his throat and half glared at them sternly. “Gentlemen? Are we ready to stop playing on the floor like toddlers?”

Harry shot him a half glare of his own. “Hey! I didn't get to be a child like everyone else, so you're just going to have to accept that I'm doing it now!”

The tailor bowed his head respectfully. “Of course, Mr. Potter. My apologies.”

Harry gave him a tiny smile, now feeling like a complete arse. He got to his feet and held out a hand to help Draco up. “I suppose that I'll be happy to wear whatever you decide.”

Draco gave him the most brilliant grin that Harry had ever seen on the usually snarky git. “Excellent! But I was actually serious. If you want sparklies and pretties, then we'll have sparklies and pretties.”

Harry pulled his fiancé into an enthusiastic hug. “Aww Draco! You're so good to me!”

“Of course I am,” Draco stated haughtily. “Malfoys are naturally generous.”

Harry snorted so hard that he nearly gave himself a bloody nose.

Draco rolled his eyes. “To their spouse,” he amended.

“And the rest of the world can just fuck off?” Harry asked in amusement.

“Exactly,” Draco replied with a nod.

“Astonishingly, I think that might just be one of the things I like most about you,” Harry informed him before giving him a soft kiss.

“Which just proves how daft you are!” Draco countered before giving Harry a kiss in return.

“Gentlemen, I _do_ have other things to do today,” their tailor reminded them.

Chuckling, Harry promised to pay attention.

 

***

 

Draco entered the shop followed by his parents, Pansy and Blaise. This was the first time that he and Harry were going to be in the same room with their family and friends and Draco was so nervous that he was certain he'd shake apart in the next two minutes. Of course, Harry was already in the shop with Ron, Hermione, Molly, and Arthur. Everyone exchanged greetings like they were playing tennis with names: “Weasley.”

“Malfoy.”

“Weasley.”

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.”

“Zabini.” And so on until everyone had acknowledged everyone else.

Harry gave Draco a brilliant grin and decided to lighten the mood. “It seems we're tasting cakes after all!”

“Remind me again why we decided against having our elves bake them?” Draco sneered lightly.

“Because when I mentioned _that_ to Ron, he was so devastated by the missed opportunity to have a cake tasting, that I realized that _it's friggin' cake!_ Of course we have to taste them all!”

Rather than protest and act all holier than thou – as Ron expected – Draco smiled and nodded. “Excellent point. Good job, Weasley.” He slid into the chair right next to Harry, which was in the center of a rectangular table. Harry's family was spread out on Harry's right, which meant that there was plenty of room for Draco's family to spread out on his left.

The woman who owned the shop smiled around at everyone. “Good afternoon! I'm Evangeline and this is my husband Carlos. We're so happy to have you here today! We've baked up a sample of every cake we've ever offered in our shop so that you'll leave here _knowing_ that you chose the best cake for your wedding. Or cakes, as the case may be.”

Harry raised his hand like a little kid. Evangeline raised an amused brow at him and gestured permission for him to speak.

“Question, can we have rainbow frosting?”

Draco sighed in mild exasperation. “ _Again_ with the rainbows?!”

Harry grinned at him. “And sparklies!”

Draco stroked his chin in thought. “Well, there's a way to make gems out of sugar – so I suppose that sparklies aren't out of the question, but rainbow frosting would be too nauseating to eat.”

“Why? I think it would be pretty,” Harry stated, although Draco was expecting him to say that by now.

Evangeline interrupted what she thought would be a heated argument. “We can make the frosting and even the cake itself any color you so desire,” she assured them as Carlos dished up samples of the first cake. “This one is very popular – carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.”

“Mmm...” Harry moaned in appreciation as he tasted the cake. Then he held up a forkful for Draco to see. “And bonus! It's orange!”

Evangeline grinned happily and gestured to a small bowl sitting next to the plate the sample cake had originally been on. “Actually, we have a variation on the frosting that is flavored by oranges. Would you like a taste?”

“Yes please!” Harry accepted excitedly. Evangeline handed him a spoon full of frosting. “Oh, that's good!” Harry pronounced as he wandlessly summoned the bowl from Evangeline and scooped out a bit more with his finger. “Taste this, Draco.”

Draco obligingly opened his mouth and let Harry stick his finger in, which astonished his parents and friends. “You're right, but I'm not sure how well that will go with the actual carrot cake.”

Carlos held up a piece of parchment. “We've provided parchment for you all so that you can write down what you think of each cake. That way, when you need to narrow down your selection, you can debate the pros and cons of each.”

Harry handed the bowl of frosting to Ron as he picked up a quill and wrote down: Pros: tastes good. _Orange_!!! Cons... slightly dry.

“Next, we have a blueberry cake with a mildly sweet whipped cream frosting,” Evangeline informed them as Carlos served them.

“Blue...” Harry praised reverently. He looked over at the rest of the cakes sitting on a long table off to the side. They all looked fabulous and tasty.

Draco snorted in amusement. “I've just realized exactly how you're going to have your rainbow after all.”

“Oh?” Harry asked with an overly innocent expression.

Draco pointed to the cakes. “Strawberry, carrot, lemon, mint, blueberry, blackberry, and what... lavender?”

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed with a grin. “I hadn't thought of that! I was still wondering how to talk you into letting me have a rainbow frosted on the top.”

“That means you'll be missing out on chocolate!” Ron protested in disappointment.

“Weasley makes another excellent point,” Blaise added rather supportively, which surprised them all. “No wedding is perfect until there's chocolate cake.”

Pansy shrugged and looked almost bored. “So, they make the green cake chocolate mint.”

“That sounds good!” Harry agreed with a soft moan.

“We have that,” Carlos informed them, handing out slices of an unfrosted cake that looked like plain chocolate. It was divine!

“How many people will be attending the wedding?” Evangeline asked so that she could plan out how big the cakes needed to be.

“We haven't made our guest list yet,” Draco answered.

“Well, it probably won't be that many,” Harry theorized. “Just my family, your family, and a few friends, right?”

Draco gave him a look of disbelief. “Are you stupid?”

Rather than be offended, Harry shrugged. “What?”

“We'll have to invite a lot more than that. There's the heads of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, Ministry officials, reporters, probably everyone we ever went to Hogwarts with and –”

Harry inadvertently interrupted him. “Huh. I hadn't thought about that. Why do we need so many people?”

Draco smacked him up the back of the head. “You're the bloody Savior! We'll be lucky if people don't try to break through the wards on the Manor to crash the party!”

“Can't we just invite everyone to the party – maybe print a blanket invitation in the Daily Prophet – and keep the ceremony small?” Harry suggested.

“That's certainly an idea to think about,” Draco admitted. “In any case, we'll probably need a _lot_ of cake.”

“I'll need an accurate count about a week before the ceremony,” Evangeline informed them. “Until then, we can just talk in general possibilities.”

“What's your favorite cake?” Harry asked his fiancé since he couldn't quite remember what Draco favored at Hogwarts. Chocolate probably.

“I'm actually rather fond of Angel-food,” Draco replied with a shrug.

“Ah,” Evangeline murmured with a fond smile as she picked up the sample of said cake and passed out slices. “I think we've just solved the problem of what to make for the violet cake. The cake can be this and the frosting can be either purple buttercream, or it can be made with actual violets – which are mildly spicy and could make an excellent balance to the sweetness of the cake.”

Carlos added samples of the strawberry, lemon, and blackberry cakes to their plates. Harry tried the lemon first and made a face.

“I'm not fond of this one,” he said as he wrote exactly that on his parchment.

“Me neither,” Draco agreed, making a note of it as well.

“What else is yellow?” Blaise wondered. Privately, he thought the lemon cake was superb, which he wrote down. Evangeline saw this and smiled at him, provoking a flirty wink that made her husband scowl.

“Bananas,” Pansy stated in a tone that suggested that banana cake was too common for her taste.

“Banana custard!” Harry blurted out excitedly.

“We have that,” Evangeline assured him with a chuckle. Carlos passed out pieces of the requested cake.

“Mmm...” Hermione moaned in bliss. “Now _this_ is what I'd pick.”

“What? Next summer?” Harry asked playfully.

“Er...” Hermione droned as she and Ron exchanged a lightly embarrassed look. “Well, we weren't going to say anything until after your wedding, but yes.”

“We didn't want to steal your thunder,” Ron added, taking Hermione's hand and kissing it.

“Oh that's wonderful!” Molly exclaimed joyously.

“How'd you know?” Ron wondered with a curious frown.

“I may have still been half asleep when I walked into the bathroom every morning for the last week, but I still managed to spot an engagement ring on a necklace on the counter,” Harry replied with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “I didn't want to risk getting it wet, even though it's spelled to be resistant to water. So, I take it off before I get into the shower.”

“I just figured you'd tell me when you were ready,” Harry said.

Arthur was frowning in concern though. “Wait, are you saying that you habitually walk in on her when she's taking a shower?”

Harry shrugged. “It's the same thing as Ginny walking in on any of her brothers in the bathroom.”

“No it's not!” Ron denied with a snort. “Ginny likes to wait until we're doing something extremely embarrassing before she walks in so she can heckle us. You just get in, have your slash, and get out.”

“And hand me a towel when I need it,” Hermione added.

“Hang on,” Draco blurted out. “You mean to say that your _sister_ walks in on you in the bathroom? Suddenly I'm glad I'm an only child!”

Harry roared with laughter and reached to ruffle Draco's hair, which he hastily leaned away to avoid. “You wouldn't have been able to spend _hours_ in the bathroom each night if you had siblings!”

Draco glared at him. “Actually, even if I had a brother or sister, I'd still have my own bathroom, as would they, so yes, I would have.”

“You sound like a princess,” Harry teased him.

Draco scowled. “We agreed that we wouldn't use any sort of silly stupid pet names today.”

“Did we?” Harry asked in a far too innocent tone of voice. “I don't remember.”

“I'll hex your mouth shut!” Draco warned seriously.

“That would make it rather hard to taste all these delicious cakes,” Harry admitted. “So I'd have to smash them in your pretty hair.”

“ _Don't you dare!!!_ ” Draco gasped out in dismay, scooting away from Harry a little.

Harry held up his leftover lemon cake threateningly. Draco countered by casting a spell to turn the cake into a sunflower.

“Now boys,” Molly said in a tone of exasperated patience that only the mother of twin pranksters could cultivate. “Let's not get out of hand.”

Draco snorted in amusement. “Listen to your mother, mutt.”

“HA!” Harry exalted triumphantly. “You used the silly pet name first! Cu–”

He was cut off by Draco slapping a hand over his mouth. “No!”

With a laugh, Harry kissed his hand. “Alright, I'll behave.” He then tucked the sunflower behind Draco's ear. Draco rolled his eyes but left it there.

“This strawberry is delicious,” Draco stated, bringing the subject back around.

“It is,” Harry agreed after taking a bite. “Did you see the suggestion in the Daily Prophet that we sing our vows to each other?”

“Salazar's pendulous bollocks! Please tell me you're not serious!” Draco blurted out in alarm.

“Why not? Sounds fun,” Harry stated with a grin.

“No it doesn't! I sound like a strangled cat when I sing!” Draco confessed rather more honestly than he planned.

“Well I can't dance, but you want me to dance with you, don't you?” Harry argued.

“Er... Well, yes.”

“So I'll dance badly and you'll sing badly,” Harry reasoned with a shrug.

“Or you could just take lessons,” Hermione suggested with a laugh.

“That idea's not half bad, Granger,” Draco praised reluctantly. “I'll be happy to teach you how to dance, Harry.”

“And you'll sing?” Harry pressed.

“Not on your life!”

Harry let it go with another shrug. “Fine. We probably don't have enough time to learn how to do both anyway.”

Draco exhaled in relief.

“So... should the sparklies be in the shape of dragons?” Harry asked.

Draco shook his head even as he laughed. “How did the theme of our wedding become rainbows and dragons?”

“Easy, I like rainbows and you like dragons,” Harry reminded him. He then took a bite of the blackberry cake. It was good, but he wasn't impressed. “What else can we use for indigo?”

“Coffee cake?” Ron suggested hesitantly.

“Devil's food?” Blaise said at nearly the same time

“Cherry cheesecake made with very dark cherries,” Pansy stated flatly, knowing that she had just won the competition.

“Mmm...” Harry moaned in agreement with her.

“Sounds good to me,” Draco stated.

“We have some of that over here,” Carlos informed them, consulting his chart to see which of the cheesecakes had cherries in it.

“Now that you've decided, we can eat the rest of these just for fun,” Ron said with an eager grin.

“So long as there's tea,” Draco agreed with a faint smile.

“Of course!” Evangeline exclaimed as she summoned a tray with a large pot and plenty of cups on it.

Happily, they all practically gorged themselves on cake before splitting up. Harry went with Ron and Hermione to the Burrow, where Molly planned to have dinner when they got hungry again. Meanwhile, Draco invited Blaise and Pansy back to the Manor with him to have a long overdue talk.

Lucius and Narcissa – who had both been uncharacteristically silent the entire time – watched in fascination as their son said goodbye to his fiancé. Draco unconsciously smoothed out Harry's shirt. It bothered him that Harry was wearing a wrinkled old tee that looked dreadfully plain.

“So, come to the Manor tomorrow. We'll start those dance lessons.”

Harry smiled. “Alright, just remember, I'm _terrible_!”

“I'm sure you think that, but did you ever actually _want_ to dance before?” Draco wondered.

This made Harry stop and think. “Huh! Actually, no.”

“But you want to learn now?”

When Harry nodded, Draco rewarded him with a brilliant smile. “Good! I expect to see you tomorrow, and I'd say wear something comfortable, but judging by what you're wearing today, I should probably tell you to wear something _less_ comfortable than you'd like.”

“I could always wear my sleeping pants!” Harry joked.

“That'll work,” Draco stated with a shrug.

“See you then,” Harry murmured before he gave Draco a quick kiss. Draco simply nodded, forcing himself to let go of Harry's hand rather than demand a much more thorough kiss.

The moment Draco and his parents and friends Apparated into the small parlor of the Manor, Pansy shook Draco rather roughly. “What in the bloody hell _happened_ between you and Potter that year you went back to school that turned you two from bickering arses to an _engaged_ couple?!”

“We shared a room,” Draco replied with a shrug. “I comforted him when he had nightmares, he comforted me, and we learned a lot about each other. We learned how to get along without fighting.”

“That's it?” Pansy asked skeptically.

“You didn't shag each other's brains out?” Blaise added, his brows wagging suggestively.

“No!” Draco blurted out with a blush as he glanced at his parents. They had both been Slytherins, so they had no illusions as to Draco's virginity – or rather, lack there of. Even so, it just wasn't a subject that was talked about.

Pansy and Blaise both ignored Draco's discomfort. “Then how do you know you won't be dreadful together in bed?” Pansy questioned.

Draco sighed and dropped his head into his right palm. “I just know, alright?!”

“Ah, so there was shagging,” Blaise stated with a knowing grin.

“Salazar's hairy arse! Yes! Happy now?” Draco cried out in embarrassment.

“No actually, I'm jealous!” Blaise exclaimed. “I wish I had known that Potter was bent back in Sixth Year, I would have sweet talked him into my bed.”

“And I would have promptly murdered you,” Draco growled, glaring at his best friend.

“Fine, so I would have sweet talked him into _his_ bed, and then kept it a secret until right about now when you wouldn't _dare_ murder me because I'm your Best Man.”

“You think that'll stop me?” Draco asked with a tone of clear challenge.

“Oh calm down, love,” Pansy ordered. “If Blaise can talk Potter into bed, then he's not serious about you after all. You'd be better off without him.”

“No, I really wouldn't,” Draco admitted with a morose sigh.

“Salazar's fat tits!” Pansy blurted out in astonishment. “You're _actually_ in love with him!”

“I am...”

“Oh love...” Pansy purred in sympathy as she hugged him.

“Lucky you're marrying him then,” Blaise said as he patted Draco on the back in congratulations.

“I know...”

 

***

 

The next day, Harry arrived at the Manor about an hour after lunch. Draco greeted him, grateful that they were alone for the moment. He kissed Harry, getting completely lost in it for many minutes.

When he pulled back for air, it took him a moment to remember anything other than his own name. “Oh! My parents expect us to join them for tea before we start on the dance lessons. And Blaise and Pansy spent the night so that they'd be here to, er, 'help' you learn. Or me teach you. Or both, I suppose.”

Harry tilted his head and only let a flicker of jealousy show before he erased it. “Did the three of you have fun?”

“Not for lack of copious molestation on their part,” Draco admitted honestly. “But no. I didn't want to, strangely enough.”

Harry took a deep breath to keep calm. “You could have. We never specified fidelity as part of this arrangement.”

“Good to know, but I'm being honest. I didn't want to,” Draco informed him. No matter what Harry said, Draco was dead certain – based on how Harry had reacted to the Christmas party in the dungeon – that Harry wouldn't like it if he played around. Part of him wanted to do it just to see Harry go into full on jealousy mode, but the rest of him didn't want to risk Harry deciding to end this fake engagement of theirs over a stupid bit of play that wouldn't be all that satisfying anyway.

Taking Harry by the hand, Draco led him into the small parlor where Blaise and Pansy were already sipping tea and chatting pleasantly with his parents.

“If rainbow is truly the theme of the wedding, then I suppose that you can wear any color you like, Pansy dear,” Narcissa murmured between delicate sips of tea.

“I do look good in anything,” Pansy stated with a confident smile.

“I'm going to insist that you bring me with when you go dress shopping,” Draco stated in no uncertain terms.

“What about Granger? I shudder to think that she'd pick something horrible that clashes with whatever brilliant dress I wear,” Pansy pointed out with an actual shudder.

“You make an excellent point,” Draco admitted. “I'll have to owl her an invitation to go shopping.” He then turned and pointed a finger in Harry's face. “But _you're_ not invited!”

Harry laughed. “Why not?”

“Because we are _not_ having a repeat of the color battle, and I already know that the only suggestion you'll make is to have them wear rainbows.”

“Color battle?” Blaise asked with interest.

“Don't you read the paper?” Draco asked with a smirk.

“No,” Blaise answered with a shrug.

“Me either,” Harry said with a smile.

Draco summoned his copy from the previous week and read it out loud. “Harry Potter and his fiancé were spotted shopping for their wedding robes, and while we weren't able to determine exactly what they settled on, we _did_ witness a rather heated argument over possible colors and styles. Mr. Fitzherbert O'Shaunessy looked rather disapproving as the two men nearly decimated his shop before reaching an agreement.” Draco stopped and smirked at Harry. “I _told_ you that you'd appear in the Prophet without your shirt on.”

“The tailor's name is _Fitzherbert???”_ Harry asked incredulously. “And I already knew they'd take a picture if they could.”

“Sadly, they also got a picture of me in those horrid rainbow robes,” Draco lamented. “And yes, but he prefers to be called Fitz.”

“Did you really decimate his shop?” Narcissa asked in a scandalized tone. She _had_ read the paper, but hadn't had a chance to ask before this.

“Hardly!” Draco laughed. “We merely hurled color spells at each other for a few minutes. Nothing that he couldn't fix in about a second flat with a flick of his wand.”

“That was seriously fun,” Harry informed them. “We should do it again, just to play around.”

“I'm dead certain Fitz will ban us from his shop if we do,” Draco drawled snootily.

Harry laughed. “No, I mean in our own home, or maybe outside. It's a lot like the muggle games laser tag and paint ball.”

“I'm not familiar with those games,” Draco murmured before taking a sip of tea.

“They're simple; a group of people dress up – either in clothes they don't mind getting covered in paint, or in sensors – and then arm themselves with fake guns that shoot paint balls or lasers. Then they go out and try their best to shoot the others without being shot. The winner is the one with the least paint on him at the end, or the one who's managed to avoid being 'killed' by the lasers.”

“Sounds a little like hide and hex,” Draco mused with a soft smile.

“Aha!” Harry burst out excitedly. “I've just figured out what we're going to do for one of those dates we plan to go on.”

“Hide and hex?” Draco asked in confusion.

“Laser tag!” Harry corrected with a grin. “I know a place. We can either rent it out and throw a party, or we can just pay to play for the day with anyone else who's there.”

“If I'm understanding this correctly,” Blaise interrupted. “This is a completely non lethal game in which the players figuratively try to kill each other?”

“Exactly,” Harry stated, finishing the tea in his cup.

“Sounds fun! Can I invite myself along on your date?” Blaise asked.

“Only if you don't object to me bringing Ron and Hermione,” Harry countered.

“I don't mind at all,” Blaise replied with a devious grin. “I've always wanted a chance to shoot the golden trio.”

Harry harrumphed in amusement.

“I'd like to play as well, since we're allowed to invite ourselves along,” Pansy informed them primly.

“You did say rent the place and have a party,” Draco pointed out. “Which means that we could invite Greg, Millie, and Theo. And maybe Daphne and her sister Astoria.”

“And I can invite Dean, Seamus, Neville, Luna, and Ginny,” Harry added. “Maybe a few others.”

“It'll be Slytherins versus Gryffindors,” Blaise stated with a chuckle.

“And a Ravenclaw,” Harry said with a shrug.

Draco stroked his chin in thought. “Maybe it would only be fair to invite our entire Year and a few friends from other Years.”

“Sounds like pure chaos,” Pansy remarked dryly.

“Exactly,” Draco agreed with a shrug and a grin. He then drank the last of his tea. “Come on, Harry. Let's see how many times you manage to step on me with those two left feet of yours.”

“If I break a hundred, do I get a prize?” Harry asked with devilish grin.

“Yeah, I'll hex your feet to your arse!” Draco responded flippantly before offering Harry a hand.

“That'll certainly make dancing more interesting,” Harry observed with a soft laugh. He took Draco's hand and got to his feet.

“Will you be staying for dinner, Mr. Potter?” Narcissa asked before they took a step.

“Not sure,” Harry replied with a shrug. “And call me Harry. After all, we're going to be family soon.”

This made Narcissa smile faintly even as Lucius scowled. He was keeping quiet because he didn't like Harry and yet didn't want to upset his son. Plus, it was rather interesting to see his son act so... happy... He wasn't entirely certain he'd seen it before.

“Certainly, Harry. And you can call me Narcissa.”

“It was lovely to see you again, Narcissa,” Harry murmured, kissing the hand she held out for exactly that reason.

“You as well,” Narcissa returned as Draco led Harry, Blaise, and Pansy toward the ballroom.

Once in the ballroom, Draco charmed a group of instruments in the corner to play a basic waltz. “This is an easy box step. Pansy and I will show you how it's done. Blaise is probably the best dancer in our Year, so he'll keep an eye on you when you try it and offer advice as needed.”

“Alright,” Harry agreed. He watched as Draco and Pansy demonstrated the dance, and it really did look easy enough now that he wasn't worried about embarrassing himself in front of the whole school.

Blaise stood in front of Harry with a mischievous smirk. “Since you don't know how to dance, you'll be the one who follows Draco's lead.” He shifted to Harry's left. “So you'll be going backwards, like this.” He slowly went through the steps, gesturing for Harry to follow along, which he did.

“It's not so bad when we're going slow and I can think about what I'm doing,” Harry admitted, a little surprised by this.

“Count it in your head, or even out loud if you have to,” Blaise advised. “One two three four, one two three four, and so on.”

“One two three four,” Harry repeated softly, matching the numbers to the steps in his mind.

“Watch Pansy and Draco, or even me, but never your own feet,” Blaise said.

“Alright.”

The lesson progressed until Harry _almost_ felt like he knew what he was doing. The most helpful part was when they all spread out in a line and Harry was able to perfect his timing. By dinner time, Blaise and Pansy were thoroughly bored, so they went home, but Harry stayed. Eating dinner with Draco's parents was awkward in that it was hard to make small talk with Lucius remaining mostly silent. Even so, it was better than Lucius making a series of snide remarks. Narcissa basically saved the day by carrying the conversation all by herself when needed.

After dinner, Draco led Harry back to the ballroom for more dance practice. The moment they were out of the room, Narcissa turned a thoroughly disapproving frown on her husband. He pretended not to notice for a few moments, but then bristled.

“What?”

“You could try being slightly more talkative, Lucius. That's the man our son is marrying!”

Lucius sighed. “What do you want me to say? There were hundreds of things I nearly said to him, and none of them would have been nice. I figured that Draco would be less likely to murder me in my sleep if I simply kept my mouth shut,” Lucius informed her defensively.

“You were always a master at small talk,” Narcissa pointed out. “Saying things like: I do hope you are well – even if you mean the exact opposite. Try that.”

Lucius rolled his eyes. “Even if I did, it would be obvious that I didn't mean them, which would only make both of them suspicious that I was plotting the Potter brat's death.”

“Oh Lucius... You've seen the way they look at each other; this is _not_ going to just go away. You need to make your peace with it before you end up driving our son away,” Narcissa warned.

Lucius sighed again. “I know...”

The two of them got lost in their own thoughts for a while as they finished the wine in their glasses. Then Narcissa sat up a little bit straighter and gave her husband a brilliant smile. He raised a curious brow at her.

“I have the best idea! We'll go in and help with Harry's dance lesson!” Narcissa exclaimed. “You won't need to say anything, just dance with me. We can demonstrate any step Draco is trying to teach.”

“That's... a good idea,” Lucius admitted reluctantly. He stood up and held out his hand to his wife, which she took before getting to her feet.

They strolled to the ballroom rather than Apparate simply to enjoy each other's company. As they got closer, they heard the lovely sound of soft classical music playing. They also heard Draco say:

“That's _not_ where your hands belongs, mangy mutt.”

Harry chuckled. “Are you _sure_ , cuddlecat?”

“I thought it was Master when we're alone,” Draco reminded him.

“I like cuddlecat better,” Harry informed him just as Lucius and Narcissa stopped in the entrance of the ballroom. Harry and Draco were holding onto each other and pressed so close together that not even air could get between them. Harry's hands were on Draco's rear, and their lips were fused in a kiss so demanding that it almost looked like a battle for dominance.

Draco broke free with a gasp. “Bed?!”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed eagerly.

With a grin, Draco Apparated them straight to his bedroom.

“Well...” Narcissa murmured with aplomb. “It seems as if we aren't needed after all. Still, there's no need to waste this lovely music. Dance with me, my love?”

Lucius was rubbing his eyes. “I didn't need to see that,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “Yes, of course.”

Narcissa purred happily as they danced their way all around the ballroom.

Meanwhile, Harry was busy tearing Draco's clothes off, licking and biting each patch of skin as it was revealed.

“Why haven't we done this since we got engaged?” Draco wondered since now that they were, he wanted to do it every second of every day.

Harry pulled back from where he was swirling his tongue around Draco's right nipple. “Well, I don't know about you, but I haven't really done this often at all. I still get unbearably nervous each time I do.”

“Ah,” Draco murmured, diplomatically not going into details. In truth, he hadn't done it more than a couple times a month himself, but that probably sounded like being an utter slag to someone like Harry – who likely hadn't done it more than a couple of times in total since the end of Hogwarts.

“And I'm nervous _now_ too,” Harry added. “But having you in my arms all day has, er...”

“Turned you into a horny bugger?” Draco asked with a smirk.

Harry chuckled – and it was clearly nervous. “Yeah...”

Draco decided to distract Harry by dropping to his knees and working on opening Harry's trousers. He playfully nipped every bit of skin as it was revealed, making Harry's breath hitch. Reluctantly, a tiny bit of sheer responsibility made Draco pull back a moment.

“You said you dated that muggle, did you ever shag him?”

Harry nodded with a light blush.

Nodding in acceptance, Draco used his wand to cast a spell to detect anything that would need to be treated before playing. When Harry lit up clean, Draco exhaled in relief, and then cast the spell on himself.

“I've had a few one offs since Hogwarts, but I always used protection spells, and so – as you can see – I'm clean too.”

Harry smiled and ran a hand through Draco's soft and silky hair. “Good.”

Draco took this as his cue to resume nipping at Harry's groin. He licked and nipped and teased Harry for so long that Harry got frustrated enough to growl.

“Stop teasing Draco and suck it properly!”

“What if I like teasing better?” Draco asked with a purr of challenge.

“Then I'm going to die of need!”

Draco laughed softly and magicked the rest of their clothes off so that he could push Harry onto his bed and climb on top. “Better?” Draco asked as he ground their shafts together.

“A little,” Harry admitted. “But I was hoping to have you inside me by now.”

Draco groaned softly in longing. “Don't say things like that or I'll be done before we properly begin.”

Harry ignored the advice and whispered in Draco's ear. “Come on, Draco. I want you.”

Groaning again, Draco summoned the bottle of his favorite oil and focused on working Harry open and lubing him up. Draco prepared Harry slowly, taking the time to find the spot that made Harry writhe and mewl incoherently. It was surprisingly fun to give someone so much pleasure.

When Harry started begging, Draco used his other hand to grab hold of Harry's shaft, but Harry was determined to end the teasing that moment. He grabbed Draco by the arms and yanked him into place.

“Inside me, now!”

Draco chuckled. “Alright, Potter. No need to get upset.”

“Now now now now now,” Harry chanted as he arched his body into Draco's.

Nearly ready to purr from happiness, Draco oiled up his shaft and tossed the bottle aside before pushing into Harry. They both moaned in pleasure, Draco working his way in slowly. He still wasn't certain that he'd last.

Echoing his thoughts, Harry cried out: “Oh God! I'm not... gonna last!” He wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and sealed their lips together. Draco positively _loved_ the rippling on his shaft as a muffled squeal came from Harry and fluid gushed between them. With no reason to hold onto his stamina, Draco surrendered to the bliss, pumping Harry full.

As they lay tangled in a lethargic pile, a thought occurred to Draco that made him grin. Chuckling, he said: “Just think, we get to do that as much as we want.”

With a grin of his own, Harry kissed Draco's neck. “For our honeymoon, we should probably just rent a cabin in the middle of nowhere. Chances are good that we're not going to leave the bed long enough to see anything else anyway.”

“Sounds good to me,” Draco murmured in sleepy agreement.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think so far? Comments are love, please and thank you :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco go an a couple of dates while planning out their wedding. As they day draws near, Draco would quite like to murder a bunch of chairs.

For the first two of their weekend dates – in between selecting their wedding robes and tasting cakes – there hadn't been much to do. Other than shop. Which they had fun doing in both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. However, the third weekend coincided with a Quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and Puddlemere United.

Harry and Draco went and were of course seated in the top box because Harry was Harry and the owner of the stadium wouldn't have it any other way. Harry didn't argue because he figured that it would make it easier to see the game. Not to mention be seen by the press – and more importantly, the players.

He wasn't quite sure which team to root for because on the one hand, Ginny was a chaser for the Harpies, but on the other, Oliver was Keeper for Puddlemere. He was dead certain that both would murder him if they caught him cheering for the opposite team. He was fairly certain Draco didn't know who to root for either for exactly the same reason, except in his case, it was because he had the complete opposite feelings than Harry did about them.

The game started off heated and stayed that way. Both teams seemed to feel as if winning was more important than even their lives and the Beaters were run ragged trying to protect the Chasers from attacks from the other team's Beaters. Bludgers were sent back and forth so fast that it was nearly lethal more than once. When Puddlemere's Seeker was knocked off his broom, Harry was half certain that the Harpies were going to win. The reserve Seeker favored speed over skill, thus managed to avoid the Bludgers. Unfortunately, he never once spotted the Snitch, which the Harpies Seeker wasn't quite fast enough to catch each time she spotted it.

This was Harry realized that the Snitch in Hogwarts Quidditch matches must be charmed to go slightly slower than in professional matches. Otherwise, Harry was a _lot_ faster on a broom than he realized. It's not like he ever got a chance to watch himself play, so...

Suddenly, the reserve Seeker was knocked off his broom as well. Normally, this meant that Puddlemere would have to play without a Seeker until the Harpies' Seeker caught the Snitch, however, they called a timeout. Puddlemere quickly obtained permission to call in a _reserve_ reserve Seeker. _If_ he agreed.

And by he, they meant Harry. Oliver flew over to present Harry with the offer using his most devilishly charming grin. Harry waved his hands in denial a bit frantically.

“Come on Harry,” Oliver cajoled with a flirty pout.

“Oh no! I have absolutely _no_ desire to be murdered by Ginny at the next family dinner!” Harry protested, still waving his hands and now shaking his head.

By this point, the crowd had caught on and were now chanting Harry's name.

“Please?” Oliver begged. “I know that you're probably dreadfully out of practice, but I'd still bet my life on you catching the Snitch.”

Harry put an arm around Draco. “I just want to watch the match with my fiancé!”

Draco pressed his lips to Harry's cheek and murmured. “You should do it.”

Harry turned to look Draco in the eye. “If I did, I'd be obligated to do so at _every_ match I attend. Might just as well join a team.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Draco wondered with a puzzled frown.

“Yes! Can you imagine the pressure I'd be under to never lose?”

Draco sighed. “I say you're bloody mental to pass this up, but I can understand why.”

Oliver was shamelessly listening in on their conversation. “Alright. I understand too. Say Malfoy, I remember you as being a good Seeker in your own right. Would you be interested in helping us out?”

Draco and Oliver exchanged a look that impressed Draco. He didn't think that anyone as thoroughly Gryffindor as Oliver had so much as an ounce of Slytherin in him, but it was clear by the look on Oliver's face that he had a ulterior motive by asking. No matter how long Draco lasted, Oliver expected him to get knocked off the broom, thereby outraging Harry, who would naturally step in to win the game. Draco had to hand it to Oliver for even thinking of such a thing. He held out his hand.

“I'd love to,” Draco stated as he and Oliver shook hands. “But only on the condition that if I catch the Snitch, I get whatever your Seeker is supposed to earn from this game.”

“You need money, Malfoy?” Oliver asked in surprise.

“Hardly,” Draco replied haughtily. “I simply want a proper incentive to win.”

“Alright, deal,” Oliver agreed, glancing at Harry as if he was utterly certain it was only a matter of time before Harry took Draco's place anyway.

Harry pulled Draco into a tight embrace and gave him a kiss so heated that it was guaranteed to make the front page. Then he rested his forehead against Draco's and whispered: “Even if no one else does, I believe you can do this.”

As Draco was flushed and tingly from the unexpected support from Harry, Harry waved his hand over the small pouch always around his neck. Without a word or his wand, he summoned his Firebolt and handed it to Draco. Draco took it, still feeling rather dazed.

“This was a gift from my Godfather, and I thought I'd lost it for a while there. I'm sure you remember how this broom helped me defeat a dragon in the Triwizard tournament, so you should have no problem catching the Snitch with it.”

Draco felt nearly overwhelmed with happiness at how much trust Harry was giving him. He flung his arms around Harry's neck – careful not to bash him with the broom – and returned the heated kiss. When they broke apart, Draco got the most determined look that anyone had ever seen in his eyes.

The announcers were smart enough to understand what was going on and explained it to the crowd as Draco followed Oliver onto the field. “Witches and Wizards, it seems that Puddlemere United wanted our beloved Savior to finish this match for them, but they have his fiancé instead. I have a friend who used to play on the Slytherin House team with Draco Malfoy, and I'm told that he could have been legitimately scouted to play professionally had he not quit at some point. This might yet be a very interesting match!”

To his amazement, everything Draco ever knew about Quidditch came back to him the moment he got into position high above the pitch. The broom felt _amazing_! Sure, there was a _reason_ that this was the model of broom used by professionals on elite international teams, but never having ridden one, he hadn't truly believed it until this moment. Had he known how much of a sheer joy it was to ride a Firebolt instead of the latest model Nimbus (which all the players here were using), he might well have bought himself one as a graduation present.

When the game officially resumed, Draco zoomed around the pitch dodging Bludgers and keeping an eye out for the Snitch. He spotted it several times, but it never held still long enough for either of the Seekers to get close to before it disappeared again. His riding Harry Potter's Firebolt seemed to offend the Harpies' Beaters, who made it their mission to knock him off the broom as soon as possible, which meant that Puddlemere's Beaters had to intercept them more than once. It also meant that the Chasers for both teams were more or less unhindered, except for by each other.

There was a fierce battle for the Quaffle even as there was a fierce battle between the Beaters over Draco. It felt like practically no time passed at all, but nearly an hour passed like this with only elusive glimpses of the snitch by either Seeker. Despite the mild chaos, Draco was able to focus completely on his task of finding the Snitch. He spotted it fifty feet below him and made a dive for it _just_ as both Bludgers would have collided with his head.

Almost as if the Snitch saw him coming, it zoomed away just as he was closing in. Draco briefly wondered if it had a mind of its own, because it made a beeline for the Harpies' Seeker. With no real time to think about it, Draco made a snap decision to catch the Snitch or die trying. It's not that he _wanted_ to die, but he would give almost anything to be able to say that _he_ had caught the Snitch during a professional match and Harry hadn't. In a way, it would be a win against Harry. A way to prove that he was better. Or some such rot.

In any case, Draco poured every drop of focus he had into the Snitch, gaining on it as it tried its best to shake both Seekers off its trail. They both closed in on it, flowing up and down and side to side as the Snitch did. Draco would almost _swear_ he heard Harry shouting his name from the crowd, but that was impossible. The roar of the crowd was far too loud to hear any one voice.

Suddenly, the two Seekers collided in midair. Only a strange twist of fate made the accident occur right on top of the Snitch, which Draco took advantage of by catching as they fell on it. In his other hand, he still held onto the Firebolt, which might just save him if he could manage to get back on it before he hit the ground. Clearing his mind of everything else, Draco crammed the Snitch in his mouth so that he could use both hands to remount his broom and hopefully stop from falling.

The moment he was safe, he realized that the other Seeker was still falling and _didn't_ have her broom on hand. With a sigh and a feeling like this was inevitable, Draco flew after her. He caught her mere feet before she would have hit the ground, sort of snatching her from her fall and then pulling up just enough that he didn't crash before he set her on her feet.

A second later, the referee – a woman who flew around on a broom and enforced the rules – arrived next to them, hovering about three feet off the ground. “Are either of you hurt?”

They both shook their heads, although the Harpies' Seeker was panting and had a hand pressed to her chest as if she was half certain she had just died.

“Can you both continue the game?” The ref asked.

“I can,” the other Seeker stated, looking around. “Once I find my broom or summon my spare.”

Draco pulled the Snitch out of his mouth with his right hand and held it up for the referee to see. The already deafening volume of the stadium got even louder as those watching them – as opposed to the other players – started screaming: “He caught the Snitch!”

The announcer who was paid specifically to keep his eyes on the Seekers while the other announcers called out everything the other players were doing, abruptly cried out via a Sonorus: “I don't believe it! Amateur player Draco Malfoy caught the Snitch! Puddlemere has the Snitch! The Harpies still win by ten points due to a last minute goal, but I'm more impressed by the way Malfoy was able to not _only_ catch the Snitch and save himself from a nasty fall, but _also_ saved his rival Seeker! Well done Malfoy!”

Draco felt strangely numb as he stared at the Snitch in his hand. He'd actually done it. He'd caught it in a professional match...

The other players flew down to congratulate him, but it felt off. Those on 'his' team were happy that he had caught the Snitch, but also sad that they had lost the game. Meanwhile, the other team was elated to have won, grateful he'd saved their Seeker, but still rather dismissive of him on the whole. It felt _nothing_ like when he had played on his House team and won a match. Even so, they all insisted that he attend the after party, in which both teams planned to celebrate the game and mingle with the celebrities and VIPs of the Wizarding World.

Draco found that he couldn't really say no, so he went with them, relieved that Harry was considered the biggest VIP celebrity of them all, and thus, was waiting for Draco in the large and posh room the party was being hosted in. Harry threw his arms around Draco, making a strange noise because he was so hoarse from screaming encouragement that he couldn't speak.

Luckily, one didn't need a voice in order to kiss. This made Draco feel so much better. He relaxed and clutched the Snitch and Firebolt tight even as he wrapped his arms around Harry.

Reporters forced them to break apart so that they could demand interviews. With Draco. They still wanted an interview from Harry, but at the moment, Draco was the bigger scoop. As Draco answered questions, he handed the Firebolt back to Harry, who magically shoved it back into his pouch. Draco also gave the Snitch back to the team manager, but not until after holding it up for a few pictures. Even Harry took a picture of him holding the Snitch.

When they finally had a moment alone – Harry firmly refusing all interviews with a silent smile and a shake of his head – Harry pulled Draco over to a relatively quiet corner and cast a spell to make words appear in the air.

_Best date ever._

Draco smiled and kissed Harry. “I'm not sure this counts as a date since we were separated and I was given a job to do.”

Harry chuckled almost silently.  _If I had my broom when you fell, I would have raced to rescue you without even stopping to think about it. Lucky for us both that you had it because it is the best broom in the world and probably the reason you were able to hang onto it and save yourself. And be a hero. I always thought you had a hero somewhere way down deep inside you._

“Don't be such a Gryffindor!” Draco exclaimed, rolling his eyes and waving his hand dismissively. “I'm no hero; the broom rescued her all by itself!”

_Sure it did_ , Harry wrote with a smirk. 

Oliver arrived with papers for him to sign so that he'd get paid, which Draco did after reading them over carefully. Then other people demanded their attention for a while. Every single person who hadn't met Harry in person before insisted on shaking his hand. He took this in stride for an hour or so, then grew frustrated. Still unable to speak without his throat hurting – and not allowing anyone to cast a healing spell on it so that he could use that as an excuse to not talk to people – Harry dragged Draco to the nearest loo. He just needed a few minutes to regain his peace of mind.

Of course, rewarding Draco at the same time wouldn't hurt. Thus, Harry shoved Draco into a stall and cast privacy spells on it. Then he got to his knees and worked Draco's trousers open. During the year that they had shared a room, Harry had given Draco plenty of blowjobs, but this was the first time since they'd got engaged, and Harry wanted to enjoy every second of it.

He worked Draco up slowly, teasing him. He used small flutters of his tongue on that long and thin shaft. He loved the way that Draco felt like velvet in his hands. He loved the way Draco groaned oh so softly whenever Harry probed the little opening with his tongue. He loved the way Draco inhaled a gasp when Harry finally covered that beautiful shaft with his mouth.

Harry made plans to worship Draco all night, not caring that they were in a public loo. It did not matter to him in the slightest if they were caught. The worst thing that could happen was that tomorrow's headline would read: The Savior spent hours giving his  fianc é a blowjob in the stadium loo!

To be honest, Harry was rather looking forward to reading that headline!

After just five minutes, Draco's knees started to shake. By the time ten minutes was nearing, Draco had seized Harry's hair in a death grip and was leaning against the wall of the stall for support. He made sinfully erotic sounds that he fervently prayed no one could hear. Just when all his blood felt like it had been replaced by lava, Draco squealed and pumped his load down Harry's throat. Harry hummed happily as he swallowed it all.

Gasping in an attempt to catch his breath, Draco suddenly chuckled. “Alright,  _now_ this is the best date ever!”

Harry chuckled too, and then managed to whisper. “Strangely, my throat doesn't hurt as much now.”

Draco hauled Harry to his feet and pressed him into the stall wall in order to demand a kiss. They got lost in their own little world for at least another ten minutes, happy just to kiss, despite the discomfort of their location. Eventually, Draco repaired his appearance.

“Should we return to the party, or go home?”

Harry shrugged and whispered: “Up to you.”

“I'd like to stay for a little while longer. There's some rare delicacies I want to try,” Draco murmured as he kissed Harry's neck and jaw.

“Mmm...” Harry moaned softly in agreement.

When they opened the stall, it was to find a couple of reporters and a handful of other people loitering in the loo. Apparently, bets had been placed on how long they'd take, which made Harry blush and bury his face in Draco's neck.

With every ounce of cool dignity he could muster, Draco took Harry's hand and led him to the door of the loo. When they reached it, Draco stopped and smirked at Harry before tilting his head in the direction of the reporters. “If they waste the front page on this rather than something more important, I'll frame it and hang it on my wall.”

Harry laughed softly and kissed him before whispering hoarsely: “Me too!”

 

***

 

Two weekends later would forever after be known as the epic battle to end all battles. It started out as roughly Slytherin versus Gryffindor, but after the Slytherins whittled the Gryffindors down just Harry and Hermione – who had their backs together and managed to avoid getting hit at all – it turned into a bit of every man for himself. This ill-planned strategy was what eventually led to Harry and Draco facing each other in a showdown of laser guns that resembled a duel.

It all came down to the last man standing. Or so Harry led Draco to believe. In actuality, he and Hermione had planned it so that everyone thought she'd been hit. This gave her an opportunity to hide and sneak up behind Draco. When the gear Draco was wearing made a loud noise letting him know he'd just received a 'fatal' hit, he couldn't figure out how Harry had managed to hit him. It wasn't until he looked up at the electronic scoreboard and saw that he'd been shot in the back that he thought to look around. Hermione waved at him with a gloating grin.

“But! You were hit! That's against the rules!” Draco protested, hating the thought of losing to her. She shook her head and pointed to the scoreboard where – sure enough – she was listed as having only a minor wound.

“Our team wins!” She crowed in triumph.

“I thought Gryffindors had more sportsmanship than that!” Blaise cried out from where he sat at a picnic table eating and drinking with the rest of the 'corpses.'

“Oh hell no!” Hermione shouted over to him. “We can't win a war by taking it easy on our enemies!”

“But shooting a man in the back?!” Blaise and Draco demanded in unison.

“Like you wouldn't have done exactly the same had you thought of it first!” Hermione pointed out.

Blaise and Draco exchanged a look before shrugging.

Harry pointed at the clock on the wall. They were inside an enormous warehouse decorated to look like a thick forest full of small shelters and hidey-holes. “We rented the place out for the entire day, which means we have plenty of time to start over.”

“We're not going to lose this time!” Pansy called out from where she now stood on top of the picnic table, pointing at Harry. “It seems like all we really need to do is take you two down and the rest of your team will crumble!”

“You're welcome to try!” Harry invited with a slightly feral grin. He gestured to the team of employees who sat in a control room near the ceiling monitoring the play in case someone got injured for real. The employees responded by clearing the scoreboard and reloading all their names.

With a whoop of joy, all the newly returned to life corpses rushed around trying to find places to hide and plan out a better strategy. It was still the battle to end all battles, and everyone was determined to win. Or at least survive. 

“I'm hit!” Ron cried out in an overly dramatic voice as he slowly fell to the ground and stretched his hand out. “Save yourself, Mione!”

“Oh Ron... how did you end up the first to die _again_?” Hermione asked with an amused shake of her head.

“Bad luck,” he replied with a shrug.

“Don't worry, we'll avenge you,” Harry assured him, once more placing his back to Hermione's. 

“See that you do!” Ron stated rather fiercely. Then grinned. “In the meantime, I'm going to go sit at the table for the dead. Oh look! Greg's already there too. He brought a pot roast his mother cooked, and I brought seven dozen apple pastries from mum.”

“Well, that's certainly one way to bond,” Hermione muttered in amusement even as she shot a couple of Slytherins trying to sneak up on them.

“At least they're having fun too,” Harry said, twisting the two of them around so that they weren't shot. 

“And so are we!” Hermione exclaimed. “This was a brilliant idea. We're going to have to do this again sometime.”

“Yeah we are!”

 

***

 

When there was just four weeks left until the wedding, Draco and Narcissa started setting up the yard. Harry had let Draco invite half the world and Draco had let Narcissa invite the other half, so the main problem was arranging the seats. They basically decided to pick a flat spot of ground between the gardens and the rolling meadows, and place chairs there. It was still a bit early to know  _exactly_ how many people planned to attend, but nearly a thousand invitations had been sent out, thus they had to figure out how it would work if  _everyone_ showed up.

“We might need to expand this part of the yard...” Narcissa murmured.

“Is this where the officiant is going to stand?” Draco wondered as he looked into a tiny but beautifully decorative pond.

“I think so,” Narcissa replied with a regal nod.

“Should we have a trellis or something?” Draco asked, trying to picture how to subtly emphasize the spot where they would exchange their vows.

“If you'd like. It can be decorated with white flowers.”

Draco turned and swept his arm out to indicate the yard where the chairs were being set up by house elves. “I've decided that the best way to keep with the theme of rainbows is to divide the area up into zones. They should slant just a bit, like an arc. Each zone will have an assigned color, and so – for example – if this here is the red zone, all the flowers and ribbons and anything else will be in various shades of red.”

“Should the chairs be red too?” Narcissa asked, curious to see how this would work.

Draco bit his lip in thought. So far, the conjured chairs were all plain wood and fairly basic. “I suppose... We could have the elves paint the chairs white, and then conjure up Gryffindor red cushions for the seats and backs. If that becomes too obvious or gaudy, we can use a softer shade, or change all the cushions to a golden color. So long as the flowers and ribbons are still the designated color for the zone.”

“I'll play around with it and take pictures so that you will be better able to decide,” Narcissa stated. She then realized that they hadn't specified that an aisle needed to be created in the middle of the chairs. “Hmm... which one of you plans to be the bride?”

“What?” Draco spluttered in alarm.

Narcissa giggled softly. “I mean, which one of you is going to walk down the aisle?”

“I hadn't thought about that at all,” Draco muttered, frowning as he mentally visualized where the aisle would be. With almost a thousand chairs split to either side, it would be a surprisingly long walk. “I suppose I wouldn't mind doing the walking. Could we do it together?”

“It's your wedding,” Narcissa answered with a shrug. “None of this is following tradition as it is, so why _not_ do exactly as you like?”

Draco studied the yard again. “Hmm... What if we had the chairs form a V or a Y shaped aisle, and then each of us can start in a tent and walk toward the officiant.”

“Will you have you father walk with you and give you away?” Narcissa inquired in a near whisper, not entirely sure how her son would take the suggestion.

Draco sighed. “I would, but I'm not sure that's fair to Harry.”

“Perhaps you should invite Harry over one of these days specifically to discuss all these details,” Narcissa suggested.

“Make a list for me,” Draco more or less ordered, and then softened. “Please.”

“Of course,” his mother accepted, smiling as he kissed her cheek.

“I don't know what I'd do without you,” Draco informed her sincerely.

“Elope, probably.”

Chuckling, Draco admitted that she wasn't wrong.

 

***

 

Lucius was standing outside the ballroom overlooking the yard. He  _still_ couldn't figure out what the elves were doing with the chairs, and there was only two weeks left before the ceremony. It seemed like every time the arrangement and decorations were set, Draco decided he  _hated_ it and ordered it to be changed. There were more flowers than he'd seen in his life! He still couldn't figure out how Harry had managed to talk his son into having rainbow as the color scheme.

Turning, Lucius looked through the windows into the ballroom. Inside, Harry was tripping over his own feet as Blaise and Pansy tutored him and his friends on how to dance. With a wince, he sincerely prayed that Harry learned just enough to spare poor Draco's feet a lot of pain.

The only good part of this whole fiasco was that Narcissa had hired a prestigious caterer to practically move in until the wedding. Each hour was filled with samples of mouth watering delicacies. Once again, Draco was his own worst enemy. He'd pick a menu, only to change his mind twenty minutes later and demand something else. Lucius was beginning to suspect that the caterer would have to make literally everything – which would cost a fortune. 

Malfoy weddings were  _supposed_ to cost a fortune – or two or three – but even so, Lucius couldn't help but grumble at the expense. He more than half wished that Harry could have talked Draco down to a much smaller and more intimate gathering. At last count, the guest list was approaching two thousand! Not only did everyone invited RSVP that they definitely planned to attend, but they  _all_ listed at least one person they planned to bring with as a 'plus one.'

“There's not enough chairs!” Draco roared from the area where he had just expanded the flat portion of the yard via charms, and was now directing the elves in conjuring more chairs.

“Draco, darling, this aisle is going to be miles long if we don't arrange the chairs differently,” Narcissa gently pointed out.

“Can we have half of them floating in the air above us?”

An owl landed on the back of a wrought iron chair next to a beautiful wrought iron and glass table sitting just outside the ballroom. Narcissa had it located there when it became the best place to take a break from all the wedding planning while sipping on tea. The owl hooted at Lucius, who reluctantly took the letter, which was addressed to him and Narcissa.

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, I was having tea with the muggle Queen and her family yesterday, when I happened to mention that I was planning on attending Harry's wedding. Their Highnesses – Prince William and Prince Harry – were excited to learn that Harry was getting married and wondered why they hadn't received an invitation. Would you be so kind as to send one to them? Please address it to the Queen and Prince Charles as well. Sincerely, Kingsley Shacklebolt_

Lucius sighed in aggravation and cast a mild version of a Sonorus on his voice. “Narcissa, my love. How obligated are we to invite the muggle Queen and her family?”

Harry practically tore open the door of the ballroom before Narcissa could answer. “They want to come?! I haven't seen the Princes since... hmm... Easter hols. I didn't think they'd want to come to my wedding. Draco! Please say that we can add them to the guest list!”

“But they're muggles!” Draco protested in dismay. “We can't break the statute!”

“ _No they're not_!” Harry nearly sang in his glee. 

This sort of flustered Draco. “What? What do you mean they're not muggles? They're the muggle Royal Family!”

Harry smirked rather smugly. “Yes, but they're  _also_ witches and wizards! I know this for certain because after the Queen gave me a George Cross and made me a  Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order – for defeating Voldemort – I got to know Prince William and Prince Harry. They taught me how to play polo and I taught them how to play Quidditch. We have their guards set up wards around the palace grounds and just go flying whenever I visit.”

By this time, Draco had simply Apparated over to Harry so that they didn't have to shout at each other across the yard. “Er... but if they're our kind, why didn't they go to Hogwarts?”

Harry shrugged. “They were sent to the same schools that Royal children have been attending for generations. I suppose that they don't want to have to try to explain why their children disappear for months on end. The media would go crazy trying to find them, and that might expose our world. You  _do_ know what happened to Princess Diana, right?”

“No clue,” Draco stated with a shake of his head.

“Oh it was so tragic!” Hermione lamented from behind them. She then explained as much as she could before Draco held up his hands to stop her.

“Alright fine! If you want to invite the Royal Family, then we'd better have an invitation delivered as soon as possible,” Draco stated.

Harry grabbed him by the collar of his expensive casual robes and pulled him close to give him a swift hard kiss. “You'll like them. I promise.”

Draco smiled almost adoringly at Harry. “I'm sure I will.”

 

***

 

Lucius stepped out onto the balcony attached to the master suite. He took in the beauty of his ancestral home for a long moment, focusing on the view as far as he could see at first. Then he directed his gaze to the lawn spread out below him. What he saw nearly made him tear his hair out in frustration.

“ _Draco!_ The wedding is tomorrow! Stop fucking with the chairs!”

“But I have to somehow fit nearly _three thousand_ chairs in this normally expansive yard that now feels tiny!” Draco roared, shaking a fist at his father.

Lucius roared in return. “Salazar's sweaty bollocks! If you  _ever_ get married again, you'd better just elope because I can't go through this again! I'm dead certain that your mother and the catering team she hired are besides themselves trying to cook up all that food you demanded! I wouldn't be surprised if at least half of them commit suicide before morning!”

“I _told_ you that we should've hired all the elves from Hogwarts to help out!” Harry exclaimed from where he had just emerged from the ballroom.

Draco growled in extreme frustration. “We did!”

Lucius rubbed his temples, wondering how much it cost to hire the entire staff of a large castle. For the very first time in his life, he had a very fleeting wish that his son was more like Harry – who would have been happy with a small ceremony that cost practically nothing.

“Then let the elves finish with the chairs,” Blaise insisted as he physically dragged Draco away from where he was overseeing the work. “We have a party to get to. Right now!”

Harry took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face. “So... I probably have no right to ask this, but how like your Slytherin play parties is your stag do going to be?”

Draco completely smoothed out his expression. “No idea, but knowing Blaise...”

Still breathing slowly and keeping a tight reign on his strong urge to rampage, Harry nodded. “Alright. Have fun.”

Draco tried to reassure him with a soft smile. “You too. I overheard Weasley plan some things that... that you'll probably hate, actually, but try to enjoy them anyway.”

Harry forced a chuckle. “I'll try.”

Blaise looked queasy all of a sudden and leaned over to whisper in Draco's ear. “He's going to murder me, isn't he?”

“I won't let him until _after_ the ceremony tomorrow,” Draco assured him with a devious glint in his eye.

Blaise gulped and watched Harry try his best to seem something less than eager to murder anyone who  _looked_ at Draco twice, let alone touched him. To his profound relief, Ron and Hermione emerged from the ballroom just then and dragged Harry away.

 

***

 

The next day when Harry woke up, not  _only_ was his head killing him, but he couldn't remember a thing about his stag do after downing some drinks and being groped by a group of strippers – both male and female. The fact that he was somewhere he didn't recognize, in a naked pile of bodies, well... He wasn't entirely sure he  _wanted_ to remember! 

Luna had her head in his lap. She opened her eyes and giggled musically. “Don't worry.”

“Er...” Harry droned since he had no idea why _Luna_ would have her head on his very naked lap.

“You didn't do anything to be ashamed of,” she assured him with a soft and dreamy smile. Contrary to her expectations, this did _not_ reassure Harry. Luna's definition of shame was _vastly_ different than pretty much everyone else in the world. “Ron and Hermione are in this pile somewhere.”

“Oh God!” Hermione cried out as she sat up. “I'm supposed to meet up with Pansy!” She then softly screamed in pain and pressed a hand to her head. “Aaa... how much did I drink???”

“Probably as much as I did,” Harry muttered, having no idea how much that actually was.

“Who knows where the hangover potions are?” Ron asked with a groan.

“I do,” Ginny informed them all, making them turn their heads to look at her. She was fully dressed and sat on a cushy stool, sipping tea. “I was the designated sober, remember? _Someone_ had to make sure none of you idiots accidentally offed yourselves. Or each other.” She gestured to a long line of vials in front of her. “There's plenty for everyone.”

Hermione crawled over to Ginny and used her to climb to her feet. Then she downed a vial and sighed in relief before kissing Ginny on the cheek. “Thanks! You're the best!”

Ginny grinned. “Of course I am. There's food over there, and Pansy already owled to say that she's running late due to a hangover of her own, so we have a few more minutes before we have to meet her.”

Hermione nodded as she wandered off to find the food. She, Ginny, and Luna were going to meet up with Pansy, Millie, Daphne, and Astoria at a prestigious place that would pamper them while doing their hair, makeup, and nails for the wedding.

Luna had no need of a potion, since she was blessed with a high tolerance for alcohol and wasn't actually hungover. Instead, she was euphoric. So, she got up and grabbed vials of potion for both Harry and Ron. She gave Harry a soft kiss that lasted a good three seconds as she handed him the vial.

“You should probably eat quickly,” she advised with a serene smile. “You and Ron are supposed to meet with a stylist in the Manor in about a half an hour.”

Harry downed the potion and unconsciously sighed in relief as it took effect. No longer hungover, he was still more than a little glad that he couldn't remember anything. Luna seemed to read his mind.

“The worst thing you did was judge a kissing contest – after we all played a stripping game. The best kisser was supposed to win a prize, but you were having so much fun snogging everyone that you never did pick a winner.”

“Er...” Harry decided that things could have been _so much_ worse, and left it at that. “Thanks... for remembering for me.”

“No problem,” Luna murmured before wandering over to Ginny for a cup of tea.

“That was rather Slytherin of you,” Ginny whispered to Luna.

Luna shrugged. “He would feel guilty if he knew just how much groping happened, but since it didn't go any further, why let him suffer?”

“Agreed,” Ginny stated. “Let's just hope that no one else feels obligated to tell him.”

After eating a few bacon sandwiches each, Harry and Ron – and any of their friends that wanted to join them, which was basically Neville, Dean, and Seamus – Apparated to Malfoy Manor. Harry had to order a house elf to open the gate and let them in since the others hadn't been here before. As guests with permission to Apparate in, that is. The elf not only let them in, but also led them to the suite that was dedicated to Harry for the day.

“Wow...” Seamus murmured as he looked around. “This guest suite is bigger than my flat!”

The stylist arrived shortly thereafter and promptly lamented the herculean task he had ahead of him. Harry winced in apology. 

“My hair never obeys anyone. I had Molly and Hermione try every spell they could think of on it, but no luck.”

“What about a simple haircut?” The stylist wondered. 

Harry shrugged. “Well yeah. My aunt used to cut my hair all the time. It just grows back overnight – which is why she cut it so often.”

“Ah, then I have an idea,” the stylist said, more to himself than Harry. He promptly ran his hands through Harry's hair to gauge it's thickness and type. “If I cut _too_ much, you'd look like a completely different man – _not_ what you want on your wedding day, I'm sure. However, if I just trim it here... and here... yes... I think I could turn this nest into a work of art.”

Two hours later, the stylist had worked a miracle on Harry  _and_ styled everyone else's hair too. Only Harry consented to a touch of makeup though, which was spelled to last all day no matter if it got hot and sweaty, or if Harry simply touched his face a lot. He didn't  _look_ like he was wearing makeup, but he did look noticeably more handsome than usual. 

Harry's friends – other than Ron – decided that they wanted to go find seats before they filled up too much. To their surprise, Draco had arranged things so that Harry's family and friends had reserved seats right up front, on Harry's side of the aisle. The chairs were white with softly golden cushions decorated with ribbons.  _All_ the chairs were the same, but the ribbons on each were a different color depending on where they were. Rather than have a harsh and jarring change at the border of each zone, the ribbons (and flowers) subtly changed hues until one color of the rainbow flowed smoothly into the next.

When a house elf popped in to tell Harry that there was only ten minutes left before it was time to begin, he led Ron to the tent they was supposed to wait in. To their relief, Hermione was already waiting for them and looked absolutely, stunningly, breathtakingly  _gorgeous_ ! She was wearing an indigo gown positively dripping in seed bead crystals. The darkness of the dress highlighted the clusters of beads – which formed delicate flowers. The dress was made from shimmering satin and almost looked painted on her upper half. It completely revealed her back, having a halter style to the front which dipped into her cleavage until only strings of crystal beads kept the front together and preserved her modesty. The dress gave teasing glimpses of her gorgeous tattoos. The skirt hugged her hips before flaring just a little to give her a small bell if she spun on the dance floor. 

“This is by far _the_ most expensive dress I've ever owned!” Hermione gushed nervously. She almost fiddled with her hair, but it had been gathered at the top and slightly to the right of her head to fall in thick wavy curls – reminiscent of roman style – and she didn't want to ruin it.

“You look so beautiful that I think Ron's brain just short-circuited,” Harry informed her as he kissed her cheek.

Gaping, Ron could only nod in agreement.

With a happy smile, Hermione tilted her head toward the part of the tent that would open onto the aisle. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Harry exclaimed enthusiastically. Then his expression turned to horror. “But what if Draco's not?! What if he remembered that this is all just a fake show that we're putting on for the world and doesn't want to go through with it? What if he leaves me standing by myself at the altar?! What if he coldly casts a spell on me to eject me from the property?!” Harry was working himself up so much that he could have gone on and on like this for hours. Fortunately, his best friends shook some sense into him.

Literally.

“Harry!” They cried out in unison. “Stop panicking!”

Hermione shook her head. “Draco's  _not_ going to do any of that.”

“He's really not, mate,” Ron added. “I'm dead certain that his father would _murder_ him if he backed out now! He's spent an enormous fortune on this wedding.”

This strangely made Harry feel better. “Yeah... You're right.”

Meanwhile, in the tent about twenty feet away where Draco was waiting, he was twirling Pansy in an impromptu dance. 

“I really do have _fabulous_ taste in fashion,” he congratulated himself.

Pansy purred happily as she admired the dress she was wearing. It was almost exactly the same as Hermione's, only it was bright red. Plus, rather than form random flowers, the seed beads were embroidered into pansies. Her black hair was too short to be vaguely roman anything, so it was simply curled with a couple small of decorative braids.

“Did we tell you that we had the rest of the girls buy matching dresses. Well, the style matches. Mostly. They don't have all these delightful crystals and their cleavage is a bit more modest. Other than that, we make an entire rainbow. I'm red, of course. Luna is orange, Astoria is yellow, Ginny is green, Millie is blue, Hermione is indigo – as you know – and Daphne is violet.”

“I'm sure you're all beautiful,” Draco murmured with a small smile.

“Very!” Pansy stated with a snobby huff.

“Are you ready?” Blaise asked as he consulted his watch. “There's only about three minutes left.”

“Yeah,” Draco confirmed. “I can't wait and those three minutes currently feel like an eon. Do you suppose that Harry's already in his tent?” Suddenly, he was hit by a sense of profound horror. “What if he changed his mind? What if he doesn't want to marry me after all?! What if he ran away?! What am I going to tell all these people???”

Draco nearly tore at his perfectly styled hair before Blaise intercepted his hands.

“Calm down, mate!” 

“Harry's _not_ going to back out now!” Pansy assured him.

“How do you know?!” Draco demanded. “You have no idea! You don't know what Harry might do! He might realize that he doesn't actually want to be married to me!”

“Are you stupid?!” Blaise roared incredulously. “That man is arse over tits for you! He nearly murdered me last night because he couldn't stand the _thought_ that someone else might go near you at your stag do!”

“No! That's just what he wants you to think!” Draco wailed rather melodramatically. He was tempted to confess that the whole thing was based on a fake arrangement.

Pansy shook him. “Pull yourself together! There's less than a minute now, and if you're going to change your mind, I'd really like a chance to run away before the guests demand my head!”

This sobered Draco up. Mostly. “No... I'm not going to change my mind. No matter  _what_ happens, I want the world to know that  _I_ didn't lose my courage at the last moment.”

Pansy sighed in relief. “Thank Salazar and Merlin! And what the hell, thank Godric and Dumbledore too!”

“Listen, the music is starting,” Blaise pointed out.

“That's my cue,” Pansy reminded them as she grabbed her small bouquet of white roses and walked over to the right part of the tent. In her head, she counted the beats. When the time was right, the tent spread open automatically, allowing her to walk in her sexy yet fragile heels before an audience of over three thousand people – most of whom she didn't know.

Off to the left, Hermione was doing the same thing. The two of them walked down their respective aisles until they joined up in the middle of the Y. With smiles, they linked their arms and continued on until they reached the officiant and parted to stand on either side of him.

Kingsley – having insisted that he was the  _only_ person in the Wizarding World suitable to perform the ceremony – subtly pointed out the Royal Family to Hermione. She had met them briefly at first Harry's knighting, and then when she and Ron had participated in a mass ceremony performed later that year when the Queen handed out honors to anyone who'd earned them. The Royals were sitting in very posh seats that seemed to float a good ten feet above the front row. More than a third of the guests were in floating chairs above the other two thirds. She hadn't noticed  _any_ of them on her way down the aisle, but now she smiled and waved at the Royal Family, pleased and a tiny bit embarrassed when they waved back.

A subtle change in the music reminded her that Ron and Blaise were currently walking down their respective aisles. Both were wearing relatively plain black dress robes. They were made from the finest fabrics and were perfectly tailored to them, but obviously weren't meant to outshine the grooms. They each carried a single yellow edged in red rose. When they reached the center of the Y, they playfully tucked the rose they carried into the other's breast pocket button hole – or so it was called. In actuality, it was a special hole made specifically for holding flower stems and was magicked so that the flowers wouldn't fall out or wilt. That done, the two tall and handsome men – one brightly ginger and the other gorgeously black – made goofy expressions as they also linked their arms and finished the walk toward the Minister for Magic.

After they broke apart and took their places next to their girls, all eyes seemed to swivel to the back of the aisles again. This gave Ron the opportunity to look at the audience and feel a moment of surprise that Dudley had actually talked his parents into coming. More importantly, they looked like they were making an effort to be, er... civil. Mostly. Both were currently staring up at the Royal Family in awe. Obvious, neither could quite believe that the  _Queen_ – the honest to God ruler of Britain and half the world herself – was here at  _their deviant nephew's_ wedding.

The music subtly changed again. When Harry and Draco emerged from the tents, both looked toward the other and visibly sighed in relief before breaking into almost maniacal grins of happiness. Harry unconsciously rubbed the small rainbow on his right arm. Draco had chosen a darkish but vivid blue – not quite navy but close, which shined almost metallic from the sheer quality of the silk – as their representation of the midnight sky. The robes were made of expensive handmade silk over a layer of extraordinarily soft cotton to absorb any sweat and had a magnificent stylized dragon embroidered with diamonds on their chests. Draco's rainbow was on his left arm since he was going to stand on Harry's right, thus their two rainbows would be almost close enough to touch during the ceremony.

When they reached the center of the Y formed by chairs, Harry held out his hand to Draco, and then kissed Draco's hand once he had it. Draco gestured impatiently with his other hand toward Kingsley, silently asking why Harry was wasting time. Chuckling, Harry followed Draco's lead.

Unlike their friends, they did not separate when they reached the end of the aisle. Instead, they gripped each other's hands so tightly that they turned white. Understanding that they were nervous, Kingsley smiled at them kindly until the music stopped and he could begin the ceremony.

“Friends, we are gathered here today to witness the union of these two wonderful men. At Harry's request, I am to keep this as short as possible, so, I think it would be best to skip directly to the vows. Both men have written their own vows, and Mr. Malfoy has asked to go first.”

Harry was surprised by this because he had actually asked to go second, but he had no idea Draco  _wanted_ to go first. He looked askance at Draco and heard the gorgeous (especially now, after he'd been tended to by the best professional stylist in the wizarding world) blond mutter: “Oh boy!” Under his breath.

They turned to face each other. “Harry...” Draco began before faltering and taking another  _very_ deep breath. Then he gestured at the musicians. “You said you liked the idea of singing our vows, only I can't sing. So, I hope your ears don't bleed from this...”

Panic nearly overwhelmed Draco, but he reminded himself that he had secretly taken lessons for this, and the song was slow and easy enough that almost  _everyone_ would sound good singing it. Even so, he looked down at their joined hands.

“[Sometimes I'm happy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Dyq8xsKgUA), s ometimes I'm blue. My disposition, depends on you. I never mind, the rain from the sky, if I can find, the sun in your eyes. Sometimes I love you, sometimes I hate you, but when I hate you, it's 'cause I love you. That's how I am, so what can I do? I'm happy when I'm with you.”

The song continued on for a bit, but was basically just repeating what had already been said. The music was jazzy and delightful to listen to. When Draco was done singing, grateful that he hadn't sounded as bad as he thought he would – and actually sounded pretty good – he gathered up the courage to look in Harry's eyes. Those vibrant green eyes were suspiciously watery, and Harry looked tempted to smother Draco in a tight embrace and kiss him to death.

Amused by the emotional energy he could feel pouring off the couple, Kingsley continued. “And now it's Harry's turn to make his vows.” He tactfully didn't mention that there were no actual vows in Draco's song, assuming that they were implied.

Harry cleared his throat and wondered if it would be rude to blow his nose at a time like this. When he felt ready, he smiled at Draco.

“Oh wow... I picked a song and practiced it whenever I could, but I knew how much you _didn't_ want to sing, so I planned to go second so that you wouldn't feel pressured. I'm... _amazed_ that you did that for me. And you know what? I think you sound really good.” He pointed at the musicians. “And now it's my turn.”

Harry took a deep breath because he didn't have more than the count of eight before he had to sing. Even though he was normally confident in his voice, he'd never sang in front of so many people before!

“Desperate for changing, starving for truth, I'm closer to where I started, I'm chasing after you. I'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I've held on to, I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm [hanging by a moment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPnK39ax_AM) here with you.” Harry had a small break here as the music picked up a bit.

“Forgetting all I'm lacking, completely incomplete, I'll take your invitation, you take all of me – now I'm falling even more in love with you, letting go of all I've held on to, I'm standing here until you make me move, I'm hanging by a moment here with you. I'm living for the only thing I know, I'm running and not quite sure where to go, and I don't know what I'm diving into, just hanging by a moment here with you. There's nothing else to lose... there's nothing else to find... there's nothing in the _world_ that can change my mind! There is nothing el~~~se. There is nothing el~~~se. There is nothing else!”

The music got softer for a few moments before the song more or less repeated itself. Harry sang it with far more confidence than he expected to have. In fact, he was having fun! So long as he focused on Draco, no one else mattered. He could only hope that Draco understood that he didn't have a clue what he was doing with his life in general, but that he wanted to marry the man he loved more than anything.

When the song was over, Kingsley realized that he was dancing just slightly and cleared his throat as he regained his composure. He pulled a one inch by three inch rectangular box out of his pocket and opened it to get a peek at the wedding rings before holding them out to Harry and Draco.

In keeping with the theme of having fun, Harry had begged Draco to let  _him_ buy the wedding rings all on his own. After Draco gave in, Harry gave Miss Lavisham quite the challenge – and here was the result. In the box sat two  _tiny_ miniature gold dragons. They both sat up and looked at Harry and Draco curiously. Harry gestured that he wanted to go first, and then picked up one of the dragons.

Still curious about the rings, Kingsley said what he was supposed to: “Harry, as you give your groom his ring, say: with this ring, I take you as my lawfully wedded husband.”

“Names?” Harry whispered to Kingsley in confusion.

“If you'd like,” Kingsley replied with a nod.

Nodding in return, Harry took Draco's left hand and said: “With this ring, I Harry James Potter take you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, to be my lawfully wedded husband.” As he said this, he set the dragon on the rainbow engagement ring. The dragon fell in love with it immediately, sitting on top of it and wrapping his long, snake-like tail around Draco's finger. His wings fluttered happily, and he was amazingly well-formed and detailed considering that his body was only about a quarter of an inch wide by about half an inch long.

(I imagine the dragon looking something a bit like this, only obviously not a necklace, lol!)

Draco nodded a couple of times, his expression stating that he was clearly impressed by the ring. He picked up the other ring and inspected it for a moment before looking at Kingsley, who told him to do the same thing.

“With this ring, I Draco Lucius Malfoy take you, Harry James Potter, as my lawfully wedded husband.” Harry's dragon also fell in love with the rainbow ring and settled himself atop it as if it was a nest of eggs he needed to guard until the end of time. Or maybe it was more accurately like a hoard of precious treasure.

“With the power invested in me as the Minister for Magic, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

Harry needed no further prompting to pull Draco in his arms and give him a kiss that was not entirely appropriate in front of an audience. Draco clung to Harry, returning the kiss until he remembered that his parents were watching, which felt a bit like a bucket of cold water tossed over his head. He pulled back and turned his head toward Kingsley and away from the audience until he didn't feel like he was blushing quite so hard.

Narcissa and Molly stood up from their respective sides of the aisle and raised their wands. Kingsley joined them in the surprise they had planned. Together, the three of them cast a spell that made every ribbon tied to the chairs turn into a tiny bird that flew around as a flock that formed a rainbow until they burst into tiny fireworks. The tiny fireworks repeatedly formed the words: Congratulations Harry and Draco!

Had there been far less guests, the newlyweds probably would have hugged everyone before moving to the reception area. As it was, they didn't have a chance to take a step before the Royal Family lowered themselves to stand before them. The Queen patted Harry's cheek fondly as she murmured congratulations. Harry and Draco both bowed very respectfully to her before taking turns kissing her hand.

Next, Prince Charles shook their hands and offered his congratulations. Then he and his mother wished the couple well and said their goodbyes just before their bodyguards Apparated them away. This left Prince William and Prince Harry on their own – with bodyguards. Prince William was only two years younger than Harry, which made him 19 and Harry 21. As for  _Prince_ Harry, he was 16 and frankly amazed that he had permission to attend a wizarding party with only his only brother and bodyguards for supervision.

Prince William shook their hands, noticeably friendlier with Harry, whom he actually knew. He was still polite to Draco though. Prince Harry also shook Draco's hand, congratulating him excitedly before giving Harry an exuberant hug.

“If you're staying, follow me,” Draco said, ever the perfect host, especially at his own wedding. He led the Princes and his husband and their wedding party over to the area where most of the mingling would happen. There were tables set up in the yard and garden, but they only had room for approximately 200 guests, so a pavilion had been erected that looked like it could fit maybe twenty people. Inside, it had been expanded so that all three thousand guests could be seated comfortably during the feast.

Draco led them to the head table, which was intended for the wedding party, Draco's parents, Molly and Arthur, Dudley, his parents and girlfriend Donna (who was a squib, as it turned out). Draco had left enough room for the entire Royal Family as well. The eight of them sat to chat as the rest of the guests filed in.

As each guest left their seat for the ceremony, the chair automatically disappeared and reappeared at a table – thus, avoiding needing even  _more_ chairs. Some of the more clever witches and wizards simply remained seated and were basically Apparated into the pavilion.

Harry was pulled to his feet by Molly when she and Arthur arrived at the table. She smothered him in a proud and emotional hug until Arthur rescued him. After that, Harry passed out hugs to and received congratulations from the rest of the Weasleys and all his friends before they located their names on other tables. Kingsley spotted a group of reporters and other people who didn't actually know Harry personally approach and made an announcement as the Minister for Magic that insisted everyone take a seat and not overrun Harry with well wishes.

The dinner was a feast that lasted  _hours_ . A veritable army of house elves walked around with trays of nearly every food imaginable, serving everyone only what they wanted to try (rather than forcing everyone to try everything). Additionally, there was nearly every variety of fine wine in existence. Harry sincerely did  _not_ want to know how much money was spent on the wine alone. He was beyond grateful that he'd eventually gave in and let Draco's parents pay for the majority of this insanely expensive wedding.

When Harry was full, he grabbed Draco's hand and insisted that they walk around and thank all their guests for coming. Draco was reluctant, but since he was responsible for inviting the vast majority of the people here, he couldn't really complain. That didn't stop him from grumbling under his breath as they walked from one table to another.

All during and after dinner, a group of musicians played soft and happy music in the background. When people had enough food, they wandered into the garden to mingle and chat. It was no real surprise that with approximately three thousand guests, most people didn't truly know each other, and thus, the first hour or so was a bit like a long introduction. People would walk up to acquaintances and say things like: “Perkins, how lovely to see you again! Have you met my son, Edwin?”

Eventually, the ballroom was opened up and Harry and Draco were asked to lead the first dance. Famous musicians from around the Wizarding World – along with famous muggle musicians who were secretly witches, wizards, or squibs – took turns playing all their greatest hits. This had the effect of turning the reception into a rather exclusive all-star concert that took a little bit of the attention off Harry.

Harry and Draco mostly danced with each other, both happy that Harry had picked up enough skill to not step on any toes. They also danced with their parents and friends. Harry and Prince Harry had danced together a few times, but now the Prince was dancing with and fascinated by Luna. Occasionally, a lucky person would have success asking Harry to dance. 

After a few hours, Harry had picked up quite a few new moves and was having fun. He spun Draco around before tugging him close and giving him another kiss. The two of them had kissed so much since getting married that they were almost accustomed to doing so in front of an audience by this point. 

At one point early on, they took a break from dancing to cut one of the many cakes forming a rainbow on a table stretching along one wall. They playfully smeared the cake across each other's mouth as they fed it to one another, then licked and kissed the other's lips clean again. After being reminded that they shouldn't get  _too_ carried away with their snogging, they returned to the dance floor.

“So... how long are we suppose to do this?” Harry asked later on.

“This what?” Draco asked curiously. “Grinding and snogging?”

Harry laughed. “ I mean, how long until it's not rude for us to go consummate this marriage?”

“Oh!” Draco exclaimed with a grin. “Er... I think we met all such requirements of politeness about two hours ago, and so, we can leave now. If you'd like.”

“Yes please!”

Seeing no reason to argue, Draco simply Apparated them both into his bedroom. With infinite care and consideration, he removed their robes and set them over the back of a chair. The moment they were both naked, he took Harry by the hand and led him to bed. Both of them were quite happy to simply kiss for a long time.

“So... how was your stag do?” Draco asked as he licked Harry's neck.

“I actually don't remember,” Harry answered, and then looked away guiltily. “I woke up in a pile of naked bodies with a terrible hangover. But Luna assures me that I did nothing worse than judge a kissing contest and get so caught up in it that I never picked a winner.”

“Hmm... getting naked and snogging others... That's a fair description of my party as well. Yes, it was a Slytherin style play party, but I presided over it and didn't do anything worse than spank a few people and snog anyone who deserved a reward,” Draco explained.

“Why not?” Harry wondered. “I thought you liked playing at those parties.”

“Well, I do, but I didn't want to,” Draco said with a shrug. “I was having far more fun picturing _you_ being tied up and whipped. Or dominated by Pansy. Or being used by Blaise.” He trailed off with a soft moan as the thoughts proved to be just as erotic now as they had been last night.

“You seriously want me to shag – or actually _be shagged_ by your friends?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Well, I suppose I like the thought of it. I'm not so certain about it happening for real.”

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he kissed Draco. Both realized that they were actually far too tired from partying late combined with not much for sleep and a long and exhausting day to do anything too strenuous. So, they simply oiled up their shafts and frotted until they had wonderful little orgasms. Then they curled up and held each other as they drifted off.

“How do you plan for this to work?” Harry asked sleepily.

“What do you mean?” Draco wondered, sounding half out of it.

“We got married as a show for the world. So now what?”

Draco shrugged. “I'm too tired to care at the moment, but off the top of my head, I'd say that since we agreed to have children, we should work on them soon.  _After_ our honeymoon.”

Smiling, Harry kissed his husband. “That sounds good to me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent ages trying to find the perfect song for Draco because I wanted it to have the words I hate you in there along with the words I love you. He is a Gemini *and* Draco after all, lol! Before I ever even started this fic, I planned to use the song that goes: ♫ I hate everything about you, so why do I love you? ♫ But ultimately decided that it just didn't fit this fic. Thankfully, an internet search helped me find this one, and I think it fit perfectly. What do you think?  
> Comments are love - please and thank you ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go on their honeymoon, life happens, and then - for their second anniversary - they *finally* decide to talk about it.

Taking their motto of having fun to heart, Harry decided that a cabin in the middle of nowhere was actually  _not_ the best idea for a honeymoon. At least not after the first day or three. So, he booked them a month on a private island where they could swim, tan, go yachting, surf, and shop at a relatively nearby tourist market. They could also hike the island, climb trees if they wanted, watch beautiful tropical birds, play with Silvery Marmosets, and never wear a stitch of clothes if they didn't feel like it.

Harry very quickly developed a dark tan that made him look fairly close to Blaise's creamy brown/bronze skin tone. Draco loved to look at Harry standing naked. Or laying naked. Or swimming naked. Or doing  _anything_ naked really. With the tan, he looked  _gorgeous._ In his head, Draco secretly admitted that Harry looked gorgeous even without the tan.

Draco – having fair and delicate skin – knew that he was more likely to burn. So, he made sure to use spells to limit the effects of the sun, developing a golden hue very very slowly. This meant that the contrast of their bodies was more striking than ever and Draco positively loved it. Watching Harry's dark shaft slowly slide in and out of him was pure heaven and reminded him of one of the reasons he'd liked playing around with Blaise so much during their Seventh Year.

However, this was so so  _so_ much better!

If Draco didn't already  _know_ he was arse over tits for Harry, he'd suspect he was falling in love. Too bad Harry still thought of this as nothing more than a show for the world... But wait. They were all alone here...

So who exactly was Harry putting on a show for?

Meanwhile, Harry wrapped an arm around Draco and pulled him close. They were laying on their sides on a blanket on the gleaming white sand of the private beach. They'd been facing each other as Harry lazily shagged Draco, but for comfort, had been scissored almost in an X. Now that both had cried out from a glorious orgasm and Harry was going limp inside Draco, he wanted to hold him like he was the most precious treasure in the world.

“Maybe we should just buy this island and live here for the rest of our lives,” Harry suggested in a soft voice as images of the future ran through his head. They'd have at least a half dozen kids chasing each other and the monkeys. Copious laughter would fill the air as those kids splashed each other. Harry would love to teach them how to swim and explore the immediate ocean – not going too far from shore until Harry was certain that they wouldn't drown. Maybe he and Draco would teach them how to play Quidditch. They'd almost certainly sneak away from the kids to make love under the stars at night.

It would be perfect. Harry purred just thinking about it. If only Draco didn't think of this marriage as nothing more than a temporary solution to the problem of his parents wanting him to get married and have an Heir.

“We could,” Draco murmured. “Buy the island, that is. Unfortunately, we couldn't actually live here. I'm dead certain my mother would murder me for keeping her grandchildren from her. That said, if we spent a couple of months here – say three or four months each winter – and the rest of the year at the Manor, hmm... Actually, if we lived at the Manor for a month or so at a time, we could probably get away with living here and perhaps other interesting places for most of the year...”

Harry kissed Draco. “That would be lovely.”

“It would,” Draco agreed with a soft hum of happiness.

“Might be hard to meet other people though,” Harry pointed out, holding his breath in the hope that Draco wasn't overly eager to do so any time soon.

Draco shrugged. “That's actually a bonus, in my mind.”

Smiling, Harry kissed him again. “Mine too.”

“Shockingly, I knew you were going to say that,” Draco drawled in that haughty tone he was so good at. “No Prophet to report on your every move, and no throngs of adoring fans trying to ask for an autograph halfway through your shopping trip.”

Harry chuckled. “They usually wait until I'm in the toilet paper aisle; probably thinking that I'll give them the autograph without a fuss in an attempt to get them to go away as quickly as possible and avoid embarrassment. Also, the few times I bought feminine products for Ginny and Hermione, not to mention the  _one_ time I bought condoms!”

“Condoms?” Draco asked curiously, actually opening his eyes to look at Harry.

“Muggle contraceptives. You really don't know what they are?”

Draco tilted his head side to side, which was hard to do with his head resting on Harry's arm like this. “Yes and no. I've seen them for sale in the apothecary, but never had need for them since all Slytherins are taught contraceptive spells and have such potions readily available. I'd only ever glanced at the box, so didn't know what they were for.”

“They're a thin and very stretchy material that is worn over the penis to ensure that no semen is deposited into a vagina during sex. Also, they help prevent the spread of sexually transmitted diseases, and so, are usually worn during gay sex too,” Harry explained.

“Ah, Ethan,” Draco murmured.

Harry nodded in confirmation. “I couldn't just cast protection spells because he's a muggle.”

“Need a lot of condoms then?” Draco wondered, trying his best _not_ to feel jealous.”

“No,” Harry admitted in a near whisper. “It was only the one time. It didn't feel right, and he knew it. He accused me of cheating on him – which was funny, now that I think about it, because he had a few friends he played around with. Not while we were dating, but my point is that he was one of those who had no problems playing around and I never once suspected _him_ of cheating, but with all the secrets I kept, despite knowing that I was _not_ the type to play, he still thought I was.”

“It wasn't meant to be,” Draco murmured soothingly, running a hand down Harry's spine.

“I know,” Harry stated in agreement. “I gave it my best try, but it never felt... Well, it always felt like meeting up with a fun friend. Never a lover.”

Draco rolled away from Harry so that he could press his back into Harry's front and pull one of those muscular arms around him. This disguised an attempt to get more comfortable while snuggling, but really, it was a way for Draco to bite his lip and frown in thought. It was becoming harder and harder for him to understand how someone as old-fashioned when it came to relationships, marriage, and sex as Harry – how he could do this. Harry had said and reaffirmed all the time that this was nothing more than a fake engagement – and now marriage – but that meant that Harry was just playing with Draco, which went against  _everything_ he believed in.

If Draco wasn't so hopelessly in love with Harry, he'd  _hate_ himself for letting Harry play with him like this. Wasn't that just his luck?  _Of course_ he'd be the one person Harry didn't care about using. The thought was depressing enough to ruin his mood.

“I think I'll go for a swim,” Draco murmured as he pulled free from Harry's arms and sat up.

“I wouldn't mind a swim,” Harry informed him with a soft smile.

“I'd rather you stay here and decide what we're going to have for dinner.”

Harry frowned, puzzled. “... Alright...”

With a tiny nod of satisfaction that he'd gotten his way, Draco walked into the ocean until he was far enough into the water that he could properly swim. Biting his lip, Harry watched him. He was concerned that Draco had gone from insulting and shouting at him when upset (as was standard back in Hogwarts prior to Eighth Year), to saying nothing at all. And this wasn't the first time either. Pretty much  _every_ time since they'd gotten engaged that Draco was upset, rather than confront Harry, he'd go away.

With a heavy sigh, Harry got to his feet to go think about dinner, as suggested. He picked up a Marmoset and told it: “This means Draco's upset, and I have no idea what I did wrong.”

The Silvery Marmoset chittered at him before climbing up to his head to search for insects – which Harry sincerely hoped would be a fruitless search, but knowing his hair...

Thankfully, Draco seemed to be over his sudden snit by the time he returned from his swim. He greeted Harry with a kiss, his body glistening like a God from a combination of water droplets and sunshine. Harry moaned in longing and more than a little bit of raging lust.

“What's for dinner?”

Harry looked Draco up and down very slowly.

“Er...” Draco droned with a light blush, inexplicably embarrassed. “I meant food!”

Harry shook his head as he grabbed Draco's left arm, then began licking up all the little salty droplets – starting on Draco's dark mark and working his way up. Draco shuddered as his body was quite suddenly lit on fire. His breath also caught in his throat.

“Merlin's scraggly pubic hair! We _just_ shagged about half an hour ago!”

Harry pulled Draco close and licked the left side of his neck. “Well, it  _is_ our honeymoon,” he pointed out in a sensual murmur. “We may never have the time or opportunity to shag this much again – especially if we have those kids we want. So why not?”

Draco smirked as this logic made far too much sense to argue with. “Why not indeed...”

Correctly taking this as permission to proceed, Harry licked a path down Draco's chest, detouring to his right hip for a moment before forcing Draco to turn around. Harry utterly loved the way Draco shivered and made delightful little noises as Harry licked the small of his back.

“You know, since you're already on your knees, it would be a shame to waste this perfect opportunity,” Draco said, trying to sound far more calm than he actually was.

Despite his near certainty that Draco was referring to a blowjob, Harry responded by pushing on Draco's upper back until he had no choice but to brace himself on the tree about two or three feet away. Then Harry pried those firm yet cushy cheeks apart and slid his tongue between them. Draco sounded strangled, not having expected that in the slightest.

Harry delighted in tickling the puckered muscles with his tongue for many long minutes before seeking out the mudhoney inside. Draco almost sounded like he was a fish out of water, desperately gasping for breath. After he'd had his fill of that, Harry silently and wandlessly conjured up his favorite oil blend and used it to smoothly sink two fingers inside Draco and search for –

“Holy mother of Merlin and fucking fucking _fuck_!” Draco wailed, now clinging to the tree with the certainty that he was going to fall if he didn't maintain a death grip. His whole body shook as tremors rolled over him.

Using just his fingers and tongue in Draco's arse, Harry gave him an orgasm that was so intense that Draco not only squealed like a stuck pig, but also passed out – thankfully still gripping the tree until Harry pried him off it and held him. Draco was actually much like a sleeping cat at the moment, almost liquid in consistency. With a grin, Harry enjoyed every moment of Draco in his arms.

 

***

 

Draco and Donna agreed to pick a table at the rather casual muggle tea shop while Harry and Dudley went to the counter to order for all of them. Dudley chose his favorite English Breakfast blend for both him and Donna. Harry knew Draco well enough to know that the the only Heir to a vastly wealthy family could be a downright picky bastard when it came to the tea he drank, so he happily paid a bit more for Draco's favorite – well, not exactly  _favorite_ , but at least well liked – Organic Jasmine Gold Dragon tea. As for himself, Harry chose a strong Organic Lapsang Souchong which he mellowed out with a decent splash of heavy cream.

As the girl working the counter was busy making their order, Harry quietly told Dudley a little bit about his honeymoon. Not the naughty parts, but the more adventurous bits. The hiking and swimming bits.

“There was even a small coral area with loads of colorful fish,” Harry murmured just before he was abruptly spun around and hugged so tightly that he couldn't quite breathe.

“Harry!” Ethan greeted joyously before giving Harry a rather heated kiss.

Harry felt his hands fly up in a gesture that meant something along the lines of:  _I have nothing to do with this!_ He managed to gather up his wits and lightly push Ethan away about three seconds later.

“Er, hullo Ethan,” he murmured with a soft smile. Considering the way they'd broken up, Harry was a little surprised that Ethan consented to _talk_ to him, let alone be friendly.

“I've missed you! Where've you been?” Ethan wondered.

“ _Who. Are. You?_ ”

Ethan turned towards the snarled question to find Draco glaring at him so fiercely that Harry was a little surprised that the much younger looking than he actually was man didn't spontaneously burn to a crisp on the spot.

Baffled  _and_ suddenly fearing for his life, Ethan took a step away from Harry and put on an overly cheery smile. “I'm Ethan Randall. And you are?”

“Draco Potter-Malfoy,” Draco stated with so much cold aristocracy that he sounded exactly like Harry imagined the Queen would if she had to dress down a common street thug.

Harry chuckled, took Draco's hand, and kissed the dragon ring – which was charmed not to move in the presence of muggles. “There's no need to be upset, Draco.”

“Oh... I'm dead certain that I have the right to murder anyone who kisses _my husband_ without my permission,” Draco growled softly, turning his glare on Harry.

Harry lightly pushed on Draco's nose. “You're adorable when you're this furious. Remind me to enrage you more often.”

Ethan decided that Harry would probably protect him from undeserved wrath and grinned. “Ah! You're that posh bloke that Harry was mooning over!” He turned to raise a brow at Harry. “You got married?!”

Harry grinned and nodded. “Yep. Just got back from the honeymoon.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Draco replied with forced civility. “Now kindly bugger off before I he-hh –” he was cut short when Harry put a hand over his mouth.

“No need to be mean, Draco,” Harry said with a frown, wondering what he'd do if Draco really did pull out his wand in muggle public and hex Ethan.

“I don't like him,” Draco growled after removing Harry's hand.

Suddenly, Harry knew what to do to reassure his prickly bastard. “Aww, cuddlecat! It makes me melt to hear you so possessive.”

It worked. Draco immediately stopped growling and glaring at Ethan to give Harry a suspicious look. “You're just trying to make me feel better.”

Harry kissed Draco's hand again, followed by smooching him on the mouth. “No, I'm just trying to remind you that there's no need to be upset.”

Draco took a deep breath in and held it for a moment. “Fine. It was lovely to meet you, Ethan, but Harry and I are in the middle of telling his cousin and his girlfriend about our honeymoon. If you want to reminisce with Harry, please do so at a later time.” With that actually pleasant suggestion, Draco spun around and regally returned to the table where Donna was watching with an amused smile.

Harry had no idea that he was grinning after Draco like a mad man until Ethan chuckled and waved a hand in front of Harry's face. “Oi, Harry. Oi! Ah, now that I have your attention, I should probably say goodbye. It doesn't sound like your husband is happy to let you anywhere near me, no matter what he says.”

“It was nice seeing you again,” Harry murmured with a smile before picking up the tray with his order. “Maybe I'll see you the next time I'm visiting Dudley, but for now, I have to go. Bye.”

“Bye,” Ethan returned with a sad smile, realizing all over again what he had given up when he pushed Harry into breaking up with him. “I really do wish you happiness.”

“You as well,” Harry said, then nodded in parting and walked over to where Draco and Donna were sitting, watching them.

Dudley stayed behind to talk to Ethan for a moment. “Sorry I didn't get a chance to warn you that Harry got married. Malfoy's from old money and their wedding was at his ancestral home – one of those noble manors that resembles a small palace. I don't think he's ever had to share in his life, and so probably doesn't know how to handle jealousy.”

Ethan smiled and nodded in understanding. “But I must agree with Harry. Just look at how the two of them look at each other! There's  _no way_ Harry would give me the time of day if he thought it would upset his husband. Thus, there's no need for him to worry.”

Dudley nodded with an expression like a person would have to be blind and stupid not to see that. “Want to know the funny thing? Those two are so obviously in love that everyone they pass on the street can see it, but I'm dead certain they've got no idea.”

“ _How can they not_?!” Ethan whispered incredulously, stealing another look at the couple, who were busy bickering over whether or not Harry should go back and order biscuits to go with their tea.

Dudley shrugged. “No clue, but I can see it in their eyes when they look at each other when his back is turned. It's a sort of haunted and longing look.”

Ethan slowly shook his head. “Like they'd give anything for the other to love him back. Yeah, I know that feeling.”

Dudley patted him on the back, and then turned to the girl patiently waiting to see if they were going to order anything else. “You may as well give us two dozen biscuits, and make it a variety of whatever you've got.”

“Sure thing!”

 

***

 

Harry was so nervous that he thought he might vomit. Of course, that could partially be from the morning sickness. He and Draco had decided that the only fair thing was to each carry a child. That way, if they ever found people they wanted to be married to more and invoked the divorce clause of their prenuptial agreement, they'd each have an official Heir.

So it was that they were finally making time to go into see a Healer at St. Mungo's. According to the calendar, it had been approximately 10 weeks since they'd both taken fertility potions and conceived. The frequent morning sickness was a good indicator that it had worked, but they'd preoccupied themselves with other things in a purposeful attempt to forget what they had done. Both were afraid that Draco had brewed the potion wrong and their nausea and vomiting was nothing more than wishful thinking.

“I brewed it as potently as possible,” Draco muttered under his breath as he held Harry's hand in the waiting room. “It should have worked...”

Harry smiled and squeezed Draco's hand. “I'm sure it did.”

Then he sighed because – on the other hand – they were both half terrified that the potion  _had_ worked. It would mean that they were going to be parents sooner rather than later. Maybe they should have enjoyed relatively simple married life a lot longer before people started pressuring them to look into their options on having kids. 

At this moment, Harry was quite sure that he hadn't the first clue what it meant to have a baby. He  _wanted_ one with a bone deep ache that had started right about the time he was emerging on the other side of puberty, when he realized that he was never going to have the right kind of family until he got married and actually  _had_ a family. Even so, it was very scary now that it might actually be an imminent reality!

He took a deep breath in an attempt to remain calm.

“My parents will be delighted that I'm having my Heir so soon,” Draco murmured, more to himself than Harry. “My father might be aghast that I myself am literally _having_ said Heir, but I think I might enjoy seeing the look on his face when it occurs to him how it got in there. I'm quite sure he assumes that I'm the 'man' in this marriage.”

Harry kissed Draco's hand. “Well you're one of them. Maybe he'll be jealous that we both bottom and top, and thus, have twice as much fun as he does.”

Draco immediately stuck out his tongue and covered his stomach with his free hand. “You think that my parents still...” he shuddered in horror. “Shag...”

“Why wouldn't they?” Harry wondered curiously. “They clearly still love each other. Honestly, now that I've gotten to know them better, they remind me of a couple from a muggle telly program – Gomez and Morticia Addams. He's an absolute nutter and she's gentile with an interesting dark side. Everyone in the world can see that they have eyes for only each other.”

“Are you talking about my parents or these telly people?” Draco asked with deep curiosity.

“Both,” Harry answered with a soft chuckle. “Don't get me wrong, I don't think I'm ever going to be pals with your father, but so long as he leaves me alone and doesn't try to harm you or our children, I can be civil to him.”

“He would _never_ hurt a Malfoy. At least not intentionally,” Draco amended with a shrug that let Harry know that Draco was well aware that some of the things he'd suffered as a teen were directly or indirectly his father's fault.

Harry nodded. “I believe that enough that I live with you in the Manor and will allow our children to live there. I think that if the worst happened and the two of us died in a tragic accident, your parents would protect our kids with their lives.”

Draco nodded slowly. “And after everything that happened with the war, if they lost me now, I'm dead certain they'd hide away in the Manor and devote themselves to raising these babies with the adoration that only grandparents have. You think  _I_ grew up spoiled?!”

Harry laughed. “Maybe it's stupid of me, but I'm looking forward to spoiling our children dirty rotten. I don't even care if they end up like you and Dudley because I've learned that the both of you realized your mistakes and learned from them. Thus, even if our kids were the most selfish brats on the planet, they'd still turn out alright in the end.”

Draco smirked, inexplicably pleased to hear that. “Alright. However, can we at least  _try_ to avoid the malicious bullying bastard stage? Maybe we can encourage their inner Ravenclaw tendencies and raise a pair of swots.”

“I'm not sure I could handle living with _two_ Hermiones, but I'm certain she'll be pleased.”

Draco twisted his lips wryly. “Hmm... you may have a point there... One insufferable know it all in our lives is more than enough.”

“Did I ever tell you that when she had that particular tattoo redone, the tattoo wizard spelled it so that her wand writes the words: _I may not know it all but I'm still smarter than you,_ in a slow but endless loop that ends with her wand tapping the words and sending up red and gold sparks?”

Draco tilted his head in fascination as a Healer's assistant emerged from behind the door separating the waiting room from the examination rooms.

“Mr. Pot – er I mean _Malfoy-Potter_ and,” she sighed in mild frustration and embarrassment. “Mr. Potter-Malfoy. This way please.”

Harry chuckled as they got up to follow her. Traditionally, when a married couple chose to hyphenate their names, the wife's name went first and the husband's last. However, in this relationship, each of them  _was_ the husband, so when they hyphenated, they each used the other's name as the 'wife's' and their own as the husband's. He could see how that might be confusing to some people.

Moments later, they were in a spacious room that surprised Harry. He hadn't been in such a nice exam room before. Then again, he really hadn't needed to visit the hospital at all, not having done anything injurious since the Final Battle.

The assistant was replaced by the Healer fairly quickly. “Good afternoon gentlemen,” the grandmotherly woman greeted them with a warm smile. “I'm Healer Rowe. As I understand it, one of you took a fertility potion and wishes to have the pregnancy confirmed?”

“Er, well, we both did,” Harry informed her. He held up Draco's hand and gave it a quick kiss. “Draco brewed the potion himself and I'm fairly certain it worked. We've both been nauseous and vomiting for ages now, but we were too afraid that it was wishful thinking, so we went on dates and things to take our mind off it.”

Rowe smiled at them. “That's a good strategy. Taking plenty of time for yourselves now while you still have the chance will keep your bond strong when you find yourselves too tired and cranky from the pregnancy to want to  _look_ at each other, much less be near one another.”

She busied herself casting diagnostic spells over Harry, who indicated that he didn't mind going first. “You're wedding was one of the loveliest I've ever seen, judging by the pictures published in the Daily Prophet. Whatever made you think of having that gorgeous rainbow effect with the flowers?

“And cakes,” Harry added with a grin. “Well, when Draco and I decided to get married, we promised that we'd have fun with it. So, I reckoned that meant I got to be silly and have rainbows. I'm sure that people expect me to be all grown up now, but I never really got to just be a kid, so I figured _why not?_ And you're right, it turned out so beautiful.”

Harry didn't care what anyone thought, he  _needed_ to kiss his husband right then and there, so, he did exactly that. Draco moaned softly as he returned the kiss for a few seconds, and then pulled away with a light blush.

“Behave,” Draco admonished.

“Never,” Harry promised with a cheeky grin.

Draco snorted, knowing full well that Harry didn't have to be serious for that to be true.

Healer Rowe smiled at them fondly. “So... my diagnostics show that you are indeed pregnant, Mr. –”

“Please, call me Harry,” he insisted. “You're going to be monitoring all the changes in my body for the next few months, I figure that's intimate enough for first names.”

She gave him another grandmotherly smile. “Alright, Harry then. As I was saying, you are pregnant and approximately 10 weeks along. Only 30 more to go! The, er... do you prefer the term fetus or baby?”

“Baby,” Harry murmured with a dazed smile. Even expecting it, he was still dizzy from the news. Without even realizing it, he was squeezing Draco's hand in a death grip.

Rowe nodded in understanding. “The babies are well formed and on track.”

Harry frowned in puzzlement. “But... you haven't even scanned Draco yet, so how do you know...?”

The kindly Healer shook her head. “My apologies, I should have explained better. There are two inside you. Twins. I can't tell if they're boys or girls yet, but they share one Amniotic sac and one Placenta, and thus are identical. This means that they will both be the same sex, unless a very rare mutation of sorts happens – but that is nothing to worry about. The far more important thing is that with MoMo twins – [Monoamniotic](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monoamniotic_twins) Monochorionic, which is a fancy way of saying that they share the same sac and placenta – anyway, there's a risk that one twin will hog more than his or her fair share of the nutrients. You are very lucky, Harry, in that here in the magical world, we have come up with a way to prevent that. All I need to do is cast a spell to tag each baby with a unique magical signature – if you will – and then the nutritive potions that I will insist you take will be keyed to each baby, ensuring that they each receive plenty of nutrition. Are you with me so far?”

“Er.................” Harry droned, swaying as his head spun rather unpleasantly.

Draco was rubbing his back with one hand while still holding his hand with the other. “Harry?”

“Er.....” Harry continued to drone.

“Harry? Har – oi, mutt!”

Harry shook free from his daze and looked at Draco. “Huh?”

Draco sighed in relief. “I know it's a shock, but she's saying that they are healthy and all you need to do to ensure that they stay that way is let her cast a spell and then take a lot of potions.”

Harry swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat. Then swallowed again because his voice didn't seem to be working. On the third try, he managed to say something.

“Twins?”

“Yes, Harry,” Healer Rowe confirmed in a soft and soothing tone of voice. “Perhaps I should administer a calming drop?”

Harry shook his head. “No. But How? Did I take too much potion?”

Rowe shrugged. “I am not an expert of fertility potions in wizarding pregnancy, but I would guess not. MoMo twins happen when the single fertilized egg – created by the potion, along with the womb – splits into two babies who share the same sac and placenta. If the potion were going to specifically create twins, I am almost certain they would be fraternal; each having their own amniotic sac and placenta.”

“So... What you're saying it that Harry's having twins because he's just got that sort of luck?” Draco clarified, feeling rather amused by the fact that Harry was the victim of fate yet again.

“More or less, yes,” Rowe confirmed with a smirk that let him know that she found the situation mildly amusing as well. “Harry, do I have your permission to cast a spell on your babies?”

“Er,” Harry uttered to give himself an extra second to think. “You mean that spell to make sure they each get enough nutrition?”

“Exactly,” Healer Rowe stated.

“Yeah, alright,” Harry agreed.

The Healer cast the spell, first on the babies, and then on two bottles of clear liquid. She then pointed at the bottles – which were labeled one and two. “This is going to be the key – and I can make more if you run out, but basically, one drop from each bottle into a nutritive potion,” she stopped and shook her head. “To be clear, the nutritive potions will be exactly the same in every way until you add a drop of this liquid. Which means that you will be taking  _two potions_ at a time, one containing a drop of this liquid, and the other a drop of this. Do you understand?”

“Er...”

Draco rolled his eyes. “I'll make sure he does it correctly.”

Chuckling, Rowe nodded. “I suspect Harry will do just fine once he wraps his head around this shock.”

Harry was now staring pensively at the holographic image of the babies created by one of the Healer's spells. She let the spell remain in effect since it seemed to be calming Harry. Much like looking into a fire, she supposed.

“Now, Mr. Potter-Malfoy, let's see if the potion was successful for you as well, shall we?”

Draco nodded, suddenly far more nervous than he had been at any point until now. After learning that Harry was carrying twins, it seemed to Draco that fate would naturally screw him over by not being pregnant after all. It would be so in keeping with his luck – just as twins were in keeping with Harry's. The strangest part of all was that Draco couldn't figure out how to feel about this. On the one hand, he very much wanted his own Heir, and so needed to be pregnant. On the other, he was  _not_ looking forward to having a child using his body like a parasite. It was a conundrum to be sure.

Rowe frowned in puzzlement. “Huh... That's odd...”

Both Draco and Harry snapped to attention at that.

“What's odd?”

“Is there something wrong with the baby?!”

“Am I not pregnant after all?”

“Is the baby hurt???”

Rowe held up her hands and made soothing sounds until they stopped demanding answers in unison. They fell silent after a moment. Taking a calming breath, she smiled at them.

“What's odd is that Mr. –” 

“Draco!” Harry snapped insistently. Draco didn't protest solely because he wanted the Healer to bloody well spit it out already.

“Alright,” Rowe conceded in a patient tone of voice. “Draco is having MoMo twins as well, which is, well, the chances of having MoMo twins are between one in 35,000 to one in 60,000. So the odds that _both_ of you are having them is so astronomical that I think it might be easier to win a fortune in a muggle lottery.”

Draco and Harry both stared at her in silence for a  _long_ time.

“What?” Draco blurted out rather unexpectedly. It was strangely hard to breath and the room seemed to be spinning.

“So you're saying that Draco is having the same thing as me? Twins in the same sac with the same cord?”

“Placenta, and yes,” Rowe confirmed, doing her very best to remain calm and soothing as she sensed that both men were on the edge of losing it.

“But wait, no!” Draco protested. “ _How is this possible?!_ ”

Rowe shrugged and spread her hands wide. “It just happens on the very rare occasion.”

“Yes, but my luck is not that good!” Draco exclaimed, his eyes wide as he stared at the holographic image of his babies. “I had to bloody well struggle for _an entire year_ just to fix up a buggering cabinet for the Dark Lord! I had to take the infernal _dark mark_ just to save my neck and those of my parents! Never in my life have I had the kind of luck where I simply decide to have a baby and suddenly I have two of them. No! Four! Buggering hell! I only have that kind of luck when I buying things! I could probably buying an entire _family's_ worth of children if I wanted, but, but, but!”

Harry decided that the best way to comfort Draco – now that his rant seemed to have hit a roadblock – was to pull him into a warm embrace and just hold him. He also stroked that soft and silky blond hair and hummed. Draco was panting as if he had just ran fifty laps around the Hogwarts' Quidditch pitch, but slowly, his breathing evened out.

“Alright, Draco, I think we need to focus on the fact that the babies are healthy,” Harry pointed out, and then almost sprained his neck turning to look at their Healer. “They _are_ healthy, right?”

“Yes, Harry. Draco, you have two healthy babies growing inside you, and I'd quite like to perform the tagging spell to ensure they stay that way.”

“Yes,” Draco murmured, sounding far away. “Yes... Healthy...”

“Would you like me to administer _you_ a calming drop?” Rowe asked in concern as she cast the required spell.

Draco shook his head, blurting out his thoughts before he had a chance to censor himself. “No, I'd much rather have my mum here.”

“Would she be allowed?” Harry wondered.

“I don't see why not,” Healer Rowe answered with a shrug.

With a nod, Harry pulled out his wand and cast a Patronus Charm. When the stag was fully formed in front of him, Harry took a breath. “Tell Narcissa: There's nothing to worry about but Draco and I are in St. Mungo's and Draco would very much like you to join us. Ask the reception witch to direct you to Healer Rowe.” The stag bowed his head in understanding and ran off to do as told.

“Handy,” Healer Rowe murmured, impressed. “I think I will give you two a moment alone to discuss this. Shall I bring back a spot of tea?”

“Yes please!” Both men exclaimed, feeling like they _needed_ something bracing.

The first few moments passed in silence, with Harry rubbing Draco's back. Then Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder, shifting so that they were able to hold each other tightly. Harry kissed Draco's forehead, and Draco responded by lightly kissing Harry's neck. After that, they simply and silently held each other.

When their Healer returned, she had Narcissa with her. By law, she couldn't discuss anything until given explicit permission, so Narcissa was puzzled and more than a little concerned. Especially once she saw the two men looking so very scared and vulnerable. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she put a hand on her son's shoulder.

“Draco?”

Draco didn't let go of Harry, but he did take his mother's hand and squeeze it tightly. “We're having MoMo twins.”

Narcissa tilted her head in confusion. “I'm sorry, what does that mean?”

“Monoamniotic Monochorionic,” Healer Rowe clarified with a gentle smile. “It means that the twins are sharing the same amniotic sac and placenta, but I suspect that your son is far more shocked by the fact that he and Harry _both_ are pregnant with twins.”

Narcissa nearly squealed in joy. She held it back except for a soft gasp. “You're pregnant?! Oh my darling boy!” She shifted her elegant dress robes and got to her knees so that she could rest her head on Draco's thigh. “I'm so happy for you! Why didn't you tell us you were planning to get pregnant?”

Draco stroked his mother's hair, his head still resting on Harry's shoulder even though he had shifted a little out of Harry's arms. “We wanted to be sure it had taken first.”

“And it has! And twins!” Narcissa was clearly overjoyed by this news. She couldn't recall feeling so giddy in her life. “Both of you! Wait! _Both of you?!_ Sweet Merlin's slaggy mother!”

Healer Rowe chuckled. “I feel much the same and I'm not even related to them. It's a miracle for sure!” She handed out the cups of tea she'd brought them. “Now, are we ready to talk about everything you need to know about pregnancy? Especially for the next three months.”

Feeling calmer, they both nodded in agreement.

“Good.”

 

***

 

Harry was determined not to let being pregnant stop him from having fun with Draco. He insisted that they continue their Wednesday dinners and weekend dates. As they both grew round with child, they attracted more attention from the media than ever.

When they weren't out in public, they were doing things like arguing over whether they should have the nursery in a separate suite or in the same suite they now shared. Draco argued that the nursery was traditionally a very lovely room with a peaceful view of the garden. Harry argued that they were going to need to have their kids on hand in their room because – with four of them – they never sleep again if they had to walk to a different room whenever one of them needed feeding or changing.

“That's what house elves are for!” Draco roared in frustration.

“That's just stupid!” Harry countered. “What's the point of _having_ kids if you don't plan to raise them yourself?!”

“I _do_ plan to raise them myself!” Draco shouted. “I will be there for them every minute of the day, but come night, I think it's perfectly reasonable to leave them in the care of the elves. For fuck's sake, Harry! If we have them in here with us, we'll never get any sleep because we'll have to get out of bed to check on them any time one of them cries!”

Harry had to admit that Draco might have a point. He pulled on his hair in frustration. “Alright, how's this? We have them in here  _with_ a house elf or two. That way, if it's something simple – such as changing a nappy – they can do that while we sleep. But if it's something more complicated – for example, they get sick – we'll be right here.”

Draco looked around in silence for a moment. “Alright... I  _suppose_ that could work. We can rearrange the study area a bit to make room for the crib or cribs. There's already a few comfortable chairs here, which I'm sure we'll be grateful for during nighttime feedings.”

Harry glared at Draco. “The  _same_ room...”

Draco was baffled. “This  _is_ part of the same room.”

“This is part of the same _suite,_ Draco,” Harry pointed out. “I mean that we should have them in the _bedroom_ with us.”

“But...” Draco faltered, unable to wrap his head around this. “If they're in our room with us, how will we ever be able to shag?”

Harry laughed. “So we shag when they're being watched by your parents or the elves. Or when we know they're sound asleep.”

“But... They'll still be in the room!”

Harry gave Draco a smoky grin. “So we shag in the shower...”

Draco thought this over for a long moment before he reluctantly nodded his head. “Fine, but if I feel like there is a dismal lack of shagging, they get moved to the nursery!”

Harry gave him a pointed look. “Draco...”

“What???” Draco asked defensively.

Harry rolled his eyes. “We're going to have four babies in one go. Do you  _really_ think you're going to be in the mood to shag for a while?”

The general, nearly unbearable achiness of Draco's body suggested that maybe Harry had a point. “Maybe not, but it's one of the best parts of being married to you and I don't want to give that up completely.”

Harry pulled him close and gave him a lingering kiss. “I think so too. I  _love_ shagging you!”

Draco grinned and tilted his head toward the bed. “Then maybe we should go do that now.”

Harry rubbed his bulge. “Yeah, before we get even bigger!”

 

***

 

The next few months were spent buying things for the babies. Near the end of the pregnancy, they both had an overwhelming urge to rearrange and redecorate their suite. They wanted all new colors and more comfortable furniture. Draco wanted the Malfoy heirloom crib in the far corner of the room; Harry wanted it next to the bed. They fought over that until they had the bed moved so that the crib could line one wall and still be just a few feet from Harry's side of the bed.

The last few weeks, Healer Rowe insisted that they stay in bed and let her cast a monitoring spell on them at least once a day. With MoMo twins, there was a high risk that the cords would strangle at least one of them, and while repositioning spells were usually effective, they weren't guaranteed. If there was the  _slightest_ chance that one of them might have a cord around her neck, Rowe wanted to deliver immediately. This meant that they were now at this delicate time when the ideal was to let the babies develop in the womb as long as possible, and yet the reality was that doing so posed risks to the health and safety of the babies. Thus, it was a sort of delicate balance of waiting for the right moment – not too soon and not too late. To be honest, bedrest probably wouldn't make a difference to the babies, and neither man was suffering poor health, but Rowe hoped that the lack of movement would keep the babies relatively still and unlikely to strangle themselves or each other.

Neither man liked bedrest. Harry was constantly fidgeting, playing solitaire and doing word find puzzles so that Draco wouldn't murder him for being antsy. Draco read books on pregnancy, parenting, babies, nutrition, and just about anything else he thought he might need to know for this trial by combat called fatherhood. He also read quite a bit of it out loud to Harry, who argued with him on nearly all of it just to be contrary.

Rowe drove them both mad by pacing in their room for at least an hour every day, scanning them with every diagnostic spell she could think of. So, as luck would have it, she was on hand when at the 37 week mark, Harry went into labor.

“Close enough!” She pronounced as she cast spells to disinfect both him and her hands and arms. She also gave him potions that numbed him from the waist down so that she could cut him open and deliver the babies – which she promptly did. 

Draco was both prepared and completely  _not_ prepared for this to happen so suddenly in bed next to him. He was half panicking at the sight of Harry being cut open; at the sight of blood and amniotic fluid gushing out. He was horrified to watch the babies being pulled out,  _knowing_ that this was his fate at any moment. He and Harry held hands as they both watched the Healer do her job.

Each man was given a daughter to hold after she was pulled from the womb – after being magically tagged with a spell to make their time and date of birth glow faintly on their forearms. Healer Rowe then cast spells to ensure that she could safely remove the womb from Harry and let the blood of the placenta drain into the babies for a bit. At Draco's request, the entire womb was eventually spelled dry and powderized to be stored in a jar for use in potions. When all was said and done, both men were teary eyed.

“I quite forget, did we ever decide on names?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. “We argued over names so much that we basically decided to wait until they were born to talk about it again. I think we should make it simple. Either  _I_ get to name both of these whatever I want – and you do the same to yours –  _or_ I get to name one and you the other – with no arguments or protests. And then we do the same when you have yours.”

“I... suppose I can agreed to that,” Draco murmured, fascinated by the tiny perfection of the daughter he held. 

“Speaking of, would you like to do that now?” Rowe asked, feeling that maybe having them all born on the same day would make things a bit less confusing in the future. Like having quadruplets as opposed to two sets of twins. On the one hand, just one birthday to celebrate with one party and lots of gifts. On the other hand, they'd have _two_ birthdays to celebrate, which could potentially mean two parties and even more gifts.

Draco took a deep breath. “Actually... yes. But wait a few minutes. First, had I been thinking rather than panicking, I would have sent an elf to fetch my mother. I already thought I'd want her here for the birth, but more importantly, I want someone on hand to care for the babies while you're preoccupied with me.”

“I'd feel better about that too,” Harry admitted.

“As you wish,” Rowe murmured with a smile.

“Muffy, please fetch my parents!” Draco called out to his personal house elf.

“At once, Master!” Muffy's voice came from wherever she was. About a minute later, Lucius and Narcissa Apparated into the sitting room area of the suite and walked into the bedroom.

“You call – oh!” Narcissa gasped when she realized that they were each holding a baby.

Healer Rowe grinned at the elder Malfoys rather cheekily. “So, grandma, grandpa, how would you like to hold your granddaughters?”

Lucius harrumphed at the casual nickname, but held his hands out to Draco nonetheless. Draco handed over the precious baby girl while Harry gave his to Narcissa. She looked to her husband, who gave her a suspiciously watery look.

“Lovely, could you please stand back?” Rowe asked. “I need just a bit of room to deliver Draco's babies.”

This went every bit as smoothly as Harry's had. When it was over, they held their slightly newer daughters. Harry kissed his husband, nearly in tears of joy.

“They're beautiful, Draco!” 

“Yours are too,” Draco insisted. 

“Technically they all _ours_ ,” Harry pointed out. “I think I know what I want for names.”

“I think I do too,” Draco murmured a little timidly. “You promised no arguing, right?”

“None,” Harry affirmed. “Are we doing our own or one of each?”

“One of each,” Draco stated.

“Alright,” Harry stated in agreement. “So, the first one I gave birth to I'm going to name Lily.”

Draco laughed softly. “Shocker there! I just knew you were going to say that. The first one I gave birth to I'm naming Narcissa.”

“Oh Draco!” His mother wailed, finally unable to contain her happiness any longer. She sat down on the foot of their bed and sobbed. She happened to be holding Lily, which she cuddled close in a futile attempt to hide her blubbering.

Lucius traded babies with Draco, holding the infant up to his face he said: “Hello little Narcissa. I suspect that your grandmother will want to kiss you a thousand times as soon as she composes herself. But me first.” He proved he was telling the truth by kissing her pudgy little cheek.

Draco smiled at that and at the way his mother just couldn't pull herself together, even though she was trying. He then grinned at Harry. 

“And since this one is the second one you gave birth two, I get to name her. I think that a good constellation name for her is... Gemini.”

Harry frowned ever so slightly. “Is that even a girl's name?”

“Why not?” Draco asked with a shrug. “We can always call her Gem for short.”

Harry liked this and so nodded even as he teased: “Or Mini.”

“It would properly be min-eye, but I understand what you mean,” Draco conceded.

Harry brushed the back of his fingers along the cheek of the baby he held, who was watching him with quiet fascination. “And this is the last one who needs a name. I want to name her Nymphadora.”

Draco thought about this for a moment. “Nymphs are nature spirits with the ability to change shape, and Nymphadora means gift of the nymphs. I'm told my cousin had the ability to change shape, and that's probably why her mother named her that. I assume you're naming her after my cousin.”

“Yes,” Harry murmured with a nod.

Draco nodded in return. “Alright, so, my two are Narcissa and Nymphadora while your two are Lily and Gemini.”

“I like it,” Harry stated. 

“Me too.” Draco suddenly glared at Harry. “I _still_ find it supremely unfair that we were stuck in bed – and not in a fun way – on _my_ birthday, but that we'll practically be healed up as good as new by _your_ birthday.”

“Oh don't be too upset,” Harry chided, even going so far as to wag a finger. “In the future, we can designate the 11 days between your birthday and the girls' as our family holiday. We'll pack up and go somewhere we've never been before.”

Draco perked up. “Huh. I rather like that idea.” Then he shrugged. “At least until they go to Hogwarts, at which point we'll have to postpone until the start of the summer hols.”

“Do you suppose that McGonagall with let us in to watch the sorting?” Harry asked out of stray curiosity. “I would _love_ to see the look on her face as she has to sort _four_ Malfoy-Potters!”

Draco looked pensive again. “Should we give them all the same last name, or split it like we have for our names?”

“We can do it anyway you like,” Harry stated. “I don't mind so long as both our names are in there. Or... I suppose that we could give them all the last name Black – since I've inherited that family as well.”

“I think we're going to have to talk this over later. I'm too sleepy to think about it now,” Draco murmured.

Lucius, who was now sitting on the bed next to his wife, looked rather thoughtful as he looked at his son. “You could always give Narcissa and Nymphadora the name Malfoy, Lily could be Potter, and Gemini could be Black.”

Narcissa – the grandmother rather than the newborn – giggled. “Or you could go with Malfoy-Potter-Black – or would that be Black-Potter-Malfoy?”

Harry laughed. “Merlin's inverted nipples! That would be a mouthful! Lily Luna Malfoy-Potter-Black and Gemini Ginny – ugh, no, er Gemini Hermione? Hmm... Mini Mione... I sort of like that... Yeah, Gemini Hermione Malfoy-Potter-Black.”

“I think I would like to officially go on record as saying that _that's_ too many names,” Draco drawled sleepily. “Let's keep it simple. Malfoy-Potter. Narcissa Selene, Nymphadora Lucille, Lily Luna, and Gemini Hermione Malfoy-Potter.”

“I think we've just reached an agreement,” Harry said with a soft hum. He was also growing very tired and carefully resettled himself so that he was reclining rather than sitting up.

Healer Rowe adjusted the spell she had on each of the babies – now that she was finished subtly checking them over with diagnostic spells to be sure that they were all in perfect health – to change the lightly glowing time and date of birth on their arms to reflect their names as well. This was a spell only cast on multiples because the chance (especially with identical twins) of mixing them up was rather high. This way, if the parent ever got confused as to which was which, they could just use two fingers to tap the arm and the glow would reappear and stay that way until the arm was tapped again as a signal for it to fade.

“Harry, Draco, since my job is done here, I think it's time I left. Would you like me to prescribe any pain potions?”

“No, I think I've brewed up anything we might need,” Draco murmured, wishing that his parents weren't crowding the foot portion of his side of the bed so that he could stretch out like Harry.

“In that case, I highly suggest that you take advantage of the fact that your parents seem willing to keep an eye on your daughters for the moment and get some rest. The _real_ work begins in about 24 hours or so when the babies recover from their birth and start getting fussy.”

“Yes,” Narcissa agreed, remembering how Draco had seemed like a perfect angel who did nothing but sleep or quietly stare at whomever held him for the first day or so, and then turned into a hungry and demanding little dragon that made her eternally glad that she had a house elf to keep an eye on him from time to time so that she could get a little sleep and not be tempted to murder herself. “We'll take them out to the sitting room so that they won't disturb you but will still be right here when you wake up and want to see them.”

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled almost incoherently as exhaustion nearly overwhelmed him.

“Yes, thank you,” Draco murmured, unable to suppress a yawn.

Narcissa brushed the hair out of her son's face and kissed his forehead. “You just sleep, my darling boy.”

And so they did.

 

***

 

It took until their second anniversary for Harry to stop being so perpetually exhausted as a parent of quadruplets. Well at least to stop enough that he had the ability to actually think about doing something for their anniversary. Their first anniversary was actually something of a blur because the girls were only two and a half months old at that point and – despite Draco's plan to have the house elves care for them at night – their instinct wouldn't  _let_ them sleep until they'd gotten up and tended to the girls personally. Thus, severe sleep deprivation leading to a brain fog that made pretty much everything from that time a blur.

Anyway, with the girls a little over a year old now, they were waking up less each night and so Harry and Draco were getting decent amounts of sleep now, leading to increased brain function and the ability to think and remember things again. Harry decided that this meant that he and Draco needed to have a date. Their first actual date since the girls had been born.

Unfortunately, Draco was so worried about the girls being without them – in the care of their grandparents and a few elves, but still! – that he almost refused to go out to dinner. Thankfully, Harry prevailed.

At the Regal Dragon, they ate in relative silence, enjoying the fact that they didn't have to entertain a bevy of babies. It was nice to not have to speak at all if they didn't want to. Even so, Harry had something to say – or rather ask – and he got ever more nervous as he thought about it.

Draco noticed him fiddling with his wine glass – which he kept drinking and refilling at an alarming rate. This could only mean one thing... It was finally the time that Draco had been dreading more than anything.

“You want to get divorced, don't you?” He asked with calm certainty. 

“What?!” Harry blurted out in alarm. “No! Why would you think that?!”

“Because you're acting as if you're about to be given a death sentence,” Draco pointed out.

Harry shook his head rather fervently, and then sighed. “Fine, I'll just get it over with. Draco, do you think you'll ever be able to love me?”

“Why are you asking me this?” Draco wondered with a frown.

“Well, it's just that we went into this marriage with the agreement that we were just doing it to get what we both wanted and needed without pressure from others to conform to their expectations,” Harry explained. “And I know that all of last year was taken up by practically non stop caring for babies. So now that they are just old enough to sleep through most of the night, I figured that you might be getting – oh I don't know, bored maybe? Antsy? Ready to find someone...”

“Wait...” Draco murmured, holding up a hand before Harry could come up with even more to say. He took a moment to pick apart everything Harry had said so far. “Are you saying that _you_ are getting bored and want to move on?”

“No!” Harry exclaimed in frustration, unconsciously running his right hand through his hair and tugging on it. “I'm asking if you think – now that we've been married two years and gotten to really know each other and had kids and – well, anyway, if you think you might ever be able to love me?”

Draco felt his heart clench painfully. “What about you? Do you think you could ever love me?”

“I asked first,” Harry pointed out petulantly.

Draco just couldn't let himself be so vulnerable. He couldn't let himself be hurt. Any more than he was already – which was suddenly quite a lot. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on his hand.

“Look, here's the way things stand: you're right. We did fulfill the terms of our original agreement, and so you can do whatever you like. As for me, I have what you might call a rather traditional – or perhaps more accurately, a _pureblood_ – view of marriage. It doesn't matter how it happened – most pureblood marriages are arranged, you realize – so, as expected and as I always intended, I'm in it for life.”

Harry felt his heart fall. “Oh... so you're saying that it doesn't matter how you feel, you'll stick with me.”

Draco took a deep breath. “Yes. Unless you want out. I'll honor my word.”

Harry looked away and bit his lip in thought. “I don't... It's not that I want out, I just don't like the idea of keeping you trapped in a marriage you don't want.”

“Why wouldn't I?” Draco asked in confusion. “This marriage has almost everything I want.”

“Almost?” Harry questioned with a frown. Then he sighed and looked at his hands in his lap. “Everything except love...”

Draco tilted his head side to side because that was only half true.  _He_ loved Harry with everything he had, but he was still certain after all this time that Harry was just waiting until someone better came along.

“Just...” Draco trailed off, and then tried again. “Just – remember how when we first talked about how a fake engagement and marriage would work? We said we'd go our separate ways and enjoy the benefit of being married – and thus not being pressured into _getting_ married – and that we'd very quietly get divorced if either of us found someone else. Well, all I'm asking is that you honor that. Don't file for divorce until you've actually found someone you want to marry for real.”

Harry frowned again. “Wait, what if I don't want to? Get divorced, that is. What if I'd prefer to stay married to you?”

Draco shrugged. “How is there a problem with that? We're still doing exactly as we said we would. Being married.”

Harry threw his hands out, feeling like he could scream from frustration. But he didn't. “What I'm trying to ask is what happens when  _you_ finally do find the person you love more than anything? Are you really going to stay married to me – likely miserably – for the rest of your life?”

Draco narrowed his eyes and studied Harry carefully. If he lived to be a hundred, he doubted he'd ever understand the Gryffindor need to sacrifice himself for everyone's happiness but his own. Then he shrugged.

“You really don't have to worry about that. I already know who that person is and it doesn't conflict with my desire to stay married to you.”

Harry sat up extra rigidly straight and glared at Draco. “Are you saying that you're cheating on me?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Because yes, I have the ability to stop time for hours so that I can leave the Manor and have some sort of sordid affair and be back before you even notice I'm gone. Harry, please don't be stupid. How in the seven levels of hell could I possibly be cheating on you? We're  _never_ apart for longer than it takes to go to the loo.”

“And sometimes not even then,” Harry admitted in a mutter. Then he sighed heavily. “I guess I just don't know what you want from me.”

“I _want_ you to answer the question,” Draco drawled in that purposely bored tone of voice he used whenever he didn't want anyone to know what he was thinking.

“What question?” Harry asked in confusion.

“The one you asked me: do you think you could ever love me?”

Harry let out a long suffering groan of sheer aggravation and rolled his head around on his shoulders. “Merlin's rotting brain, Draco! Don't you realize by now that I'm so madly in love with you – that I've  _been_ so madly in love with you since at least Eighth Year – that I agreed to this whole fake engagement because it was the only way I could think of to get you to agree to at least  _try_ being with me?”

It was Draco's turn to sit up extra rigidly straight. “Please don't lie to me, Harry. I can handle anything, so long as it's the truth.”

This time, Harry simply rolled his eyes. “Draco... I've told you this a few times over the years, but you never seem to believe me, and I have no idea why. I do not play around. If I do  _anything_ with a person, it's because that person means something to me.”

“Unless you get drunk and pretend to marry a bloke you don't even know,” Draco pointed out with a rather nasty sneer.

Harry shook his head. “I didn't do anything with him at the time. I told you, I only ever shagged him once, and that was after Hogwarts while we were dating. It didn't feel right, so I never agreed to do it again. As for that pretend marriage that happened while I was drunk, it only happened because I was upset by the fact that you had gone to that play party. I  _felt_ like you had cheated on me, and as I explained this to everyone at my cousin's that night,  _they_ suggested that I should pretend to elope so that I could use the information to get back at you by making you jealous. I was not serious about it at all. In fact, I was just going to throw the paper away and never mention it, except I woke up hungover and blurted it out to Ron and Hermione before I could fully process the fact that I could hear you in the background. And if you must know, it didn't seem to work. You didn't seem to care – beyond the fact that he was a muggle, a stranger, and looked underage.”

Draco looked to his hands in his lap, feeling more vulnerable than ever. “I cared. I wanted to hunt that muggle down and tear him limb from limb.”

“Which is almost exactly what I felt when you went to that party,” Harry informed him. “But _why_ did you care? You barely tolerated me back then, and I'm never quite certain if you actually _like_ me now, or if you have just gotten very good at putting up with me for the sake of a convenient marriage.”

Draco felt his jaw drop open for a moment. “You really think that I don't even  _like_ you?! Oh  _Harry_ , you stupid, silly, mangy mutt!”

Harry was confused because Draco only ever used the silly pet name when being playful – which was a bit rare now that they had four kids stealing all their energy.

Draco shook his head with a wry and ever so slightly amused feeling. “There's no way I would have agreed to any sort of marriage, real, fake, temporary, or otherwise, if I didn't  _at least_ like you! I like so many things about you, one of which is that you've never lied to me, at least not that I've noticed and I have a pretty good ability to spot lies. It's why I'm so upset right now that you're claiming to love me.”

“You really think I'm _lying_ ,” Harry asked incredulously. “Why would I lie about something like love?”

“I don't know, and that's what's angering me! Look, can we please just drop this whole conversation and concentrate on enjoying what's left of our anniversary?”

Harry waved his left hand as if dismissing that suggestion. “No wait, first, I need to know what makes you think I'm lying about this.”

Draco sighed and picked up his wine glass to take a sip. “You just claimed to love me since Eighth Year, but never once in all that time have you said anything to me that so much as  _hinted_ at love. You've been surprisingly logical and accommodating in this relationship. You've agreed to do things I wanted in exchange for me doing things you wanted. This marriage has been rather traditional in that aspect – a contract like most purebloods have. That's all I need from you. That and honesty.”

Harry was confused all over again, not that he had actually stopped being confused for even a second since this conversation began. “But I  _did_ say that I love you!”

Draco frowned and rubbed his forehead as he tried very hard to remember ever hearing those words from Harry. “Diiiiid you tell me in my sleep...?”

Harry chuckled at that. “No! It was in my vows. I chose a song to sing that fairly closely described what I was thinking and feeling. That I was chasing after you and that I would stand here with you until you made me move.”

Draco looked up to the ceiling as he thought this over. It was then that their waitress delivered dessert. As usual, they had a privacy ward up around them, so she couldn't hear what they were talking about, but she could tell that the conversation was intense. So, she entered the warded area, did her job, asked if they needed anything, and left as soon as possible. As this was happening, Draco remembered fairly clearly that one of the repeated lyrics of the song Harry sang was indeed:  _I'm falling even more in love with you_ .

“Perhaps, but that was only a show you were putting on for the world. I wasn't supposed to take it seriously,” he finally replied.

Harry reached over and took Draco's hand in his. “ _Draco_ ... Please listen to me! I am serious, I love you and I have loved you since... I don't actually know anymore! I realized it in Eighth Year, but I think it started long before then.”

Draco felt nauseous and faint. “But... but....  _How???_ How in the world could you possibly love me? More importantly, how could you have loved me  _then_ ?! I was such an arse back then!”

“You still are,” Harry assured him with an adoring smile.

“So you see what I'm saying?” Draco swept his hand out to indicate that Harry had just made his point for him.

Harry sighed. “Fine. You don't have to believe me. I just want you to know that I love you and that I plan to stay married to you until you ask me to leave. That's why I've been so nervous all throughout dinner. I wanted to be sure that you haven't already started planning to find someone else, because Draco, as much as I love you and want to be with you for the rest of my life – I want you to be happy even more.”

Draco tilted his head to the side as he stared at Harry. He really felt like his brain had just stopped functioning completely. Or maybe like Harry had suddenly started speaking a foreign language. It made about as much sense as the gibberish that their daughters chattered at each other!

“Happy... You want me to be happy...?”

“Well yeah,” Harry confirmed with a puzzled frown. “Why wouldn't I?”

“But I _am_ happy,” Draco said, still having a profound sense that his brain wasn't quite working right. “Can't you tell that?”

“Honestly, it's hard to be sure of anything with you,” Harry informed him.

“I said it in _my_ vows,” Draco pointed out. “Or rather, sang it. Sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I'm blue, my disposition depends on you.” He skipped a couple of lines. “I'm happy when I'm with you.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but that was just a song you sang as part of the show I wanted.”

Draco was tempted to smack Harry and then hex him for good measure. “Harry, you stupid fucking bloody idiot! I  _told_ you that I couldn't sing! That I sounded  _terrible_ , and yet, I did it for you! Because it was the only way I could think of to tell you – not just  _tell_ you, but  _prove_ how I feel! Would I sing in front of thousands of people if I was just putting on a show???”

“So...” Harry was scrambling to wrap his brain around this. “So... That means... means...”

“That I _love_ you, you moronic, imbecilic, _astoundingly_ dense –” The rest of the adjectives that Draco could have come up with were cut short when Harry yanked him out of his chair, into Harry's lap, and kissed him so deeply that Draco had to wonder if Harry was licking his uvula. 

Both quite forgot all about the fact that they were in a public restaurant, likely being watched and possibly photographed by reporters. Not to mention an audience of diners who were now silent and watching them in shock. Kissing like that simply wasn't done in such a refined placed.

Harry pulled back when he ran out of air, which was just before their waitress was about to gather up the courage to stop them anyway. Then he rested his forehead on Draco's.

“You know, you are too.”

“Am what?” Draco asked in confusion.

“Astoundingly dense,” Harry informed him with a smirk. “I've been arse over tits for you for years, and you didn't see it. And you think you're so much more clever than I am.”

Draco turned his head away with a soft harrumph. “Of course I'm more clever than you, mutt. I suppose I just let myself be blinded by the belief that you couldn't  _possibly_ love someone like me.”

Harry gave him a soft smooch. “Well, I do.”

Filling up with a happiness so powerful that he felt like he could literally be glowing like the sun, Draco grinned. “Good. Because I love you too – and Merlin's crooked teeth! I just realized that you manipulated me into saying that in public!”

Harry laughed. “We can only say it in private from now on, if you want. Actually, no we can't, because I plan to say it everywhere we go so that there isn't a person in the world that doesn't know how I feel about you.”

Draco gave him a dry look. “Fine. If you must. But don't expect me to say it back. I keep telling you that there are certain things that are supposed to be kept private, and this is one of them. I'll say it in our bedroom or not at all, but I'll mean it all the time.”

Smiling, Harry gave him another small smooch. “I can live with that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mini Mione, lol ^_^
> 
> This is the last chapter of this part. I hope you enjoyed this fluffy little silly ride!

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? Did I make you laugh at any point? Comments are love, please and thank you :-)


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